


No More Shall We Play

by not_rude_ginger



Series: Aimless Play Series [7]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Epic, F/M, Gen, Good Loki, Grief/Mourning, Kings & Queens, Loki Feels, Loki-centric, Marriage, Mental Breakdown, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Parent-Child Relationship, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Secret Marriage, Slow Burn, True Love, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 192,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3597033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_rude_ginger/pseuds/not_rude_ginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/933232">The Long Game</a></p><p>It's been five years since Loki became king after Thor's banishment, and over three years since the old guard revolted against him. Three years where Loki has struggled to rule well, raise two difficult children, and grieve for his missing wife. Lonely and frustrated, Loki's sanity is starting to fray, but the return of the missing Vanaheim and the intentions of its newly crowned queen will test Loki's hard earned maturity and open the Nine Realms up to new possibilities as the Convergence approaches. </p><p>Tested to the extreme in a way he has never experienced before, Loki must find a new kind of strength within himself to have a chance at the life he desperately wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Most Majestic Visit

The small town of Adarfell was full of rumour and intrigue as the people bustled about the place preparing for an event that had not happened in any of the younger generation’s memory.

The King of Asgard was coming to visit. Everyone was whispering about the handsome, magical young king that had only been ruling for four years, but had caused more upheaval than had been experienced in centuries. He was a warrior, a mage, a wordsmith and a lover of games. No one could bear wait anymore.

Adarfell’s chief, Jarl Geirfastr, was running around like a madman, barking at the women to hurry their work. 

“Why is there not enough food?” the Jarl demanded, “The king is coming to see our worth and you can’t even make enough bread to feed his court?”

His wife Mjoll glared at him, “Perhaps if you lent your hand to it, we’d have a hundred more made.”

Their daughters giggled then ducked their heads as their father rounded on them, resuming their work. They knew better than to let their father grow more ill-tempered; he was already close to madness thanks to the approaching guests.

“Why has it taken the king so long to visit?” asked the youngest daughter as she stirred a large pot with her two arms, her chubby face flushed with effort. “He’s coming because of the rebellion, but that was so long ago.”

“Three years is not so long, darling,” said Mjoll, smoothing her hair back and picking up her knife, “And the king has been busy, remember that Idavoll was terribly damaged by the destruction of the Bifröst, he had to make sure that the city was well under repair before he could leave it.”

“And,” said the eldest daughter, “He had to try everyone who turned on him, and sentence them to proper punishment, not to mention who would have cared for the capital in his place since he’s taking his most trusted men with him. He had to wait for the Dowager Queen Frigga to wake up and heal so she could care for the city while he goes through the realm reaffirming our loyalty to the house of Bor, and the house of Loki.”

“Besides, his young boys were no doubt very fragile after all the trauma they’ve been through, and with no mother to care for them, the king has to raise them himself,” said Mjoll with a cluck of her tongue. “Poor things, I hear they haven’t grown an inch since they were returned to the king.”

“I heard they’re grey as corpses, slow and mute,” said the youngest daughter, “They turn into monsters, and the king will feed us to them if he isn’t happy with us.”

“That’s a lot of nonsense,” said Mjoll giving her head a light smack, “And don’t let your father hear you talking like that, not unless you want to set him off on a rant about bastards and runts, and goodness knows what else.”

The daughters all pulled identical faces of disgust and resumed their work. Geirfastr had some dark opinions about the king’s boys.

“I hear the king is the tallest man in Asgard, and he’s smarter than anyone else,” said the eldest girl, admiring her reflection in the back of a spoon.

“I thought his brother was taller,” said the youngest.

“Oh, who cares about him? It’s not as if he’s ever coming back. Besides it was all his fault that we almost went to war with the Frost Giants.” Mjoll’s eldest daughter fixed her hair with a smug smile, “Really, who wants a big brute anyway? I heard the king is kinder than anyone else to women, and he’s good with children.”

Mjoll hid a smile.

As the evening drew closer, one of the many young men sent to watch out for the king’s court came running down a hill,

“They’re here! The king is here!”

“Places everyone!” barked Geirfastr, tugging at his tunic under his breastplate as Mjoll patted her hair and stood demurely beside him. “Remember, we’re going to show the king we are loyal and steadfast, and true to the traditions of Asgard.”

Mjoll rolled her eyes as their son joined them, having spent all day polishing his battle axe and armour. He pushed back his hair and grinned at his sisters. The youngest stuck out her tongue at him, earning her a cuff on the ear from her father. Soon, every person in the village was standing tall and still in neat rows, watching the ridge of the hill.

The sound of whirring engines and horses’ hooves hitting the ground filtered towards them, indicating that a large entourage was approaching the village. The louder the sound got the quieter the village seemed to become. Everyone was both excited and terrified about this visit.

The Rebellion of Pigs, as the Rebellion had almost immediately come to be known, had been a brief event but the results had been far reaching, right to the very outskirts of Asgard. After so long knowing what to expect from Asgard’s rulers, the new king, King Loki, had thrown everything into confusion. Jarl Geirfastr was convinced that his title and place among his village was under threat, after all, the king had already dismissed so many traditional jarls from their inherited titles. The king claimed it was due to corruption, but Geirfastr was adamant it was to undermine the rights of the traditional leaders of Asgard. He had kept Mjoll up countless nights in a panic about losing his position.

Four horses crested the hill, ridden by armoured warriors, leading the way towards the village. A rider with silvery blonde hair followed these guards, and behind him came a huge, black, eight legged horse.

“Woah,” breathed Mjoll’s son, his huge eyes fixed on the rider of this magnificent beast. He was the tallest man in the growing crowd, his crown-helm of golden horns only increasing his stance. He wore lightly armoured clothes of dark green and black, with gold accents, and in his long right hand he held a staff of palest wood, almost silvery white. He was slimmer than most men, with pale skin and high cheekbones. Despite his slim, clean shaven face, he was a handsome man, but what drew Mjoll’s attention was the bearing he carried himself with. Strong, upright, noble and confident, he exuded absolute power and control, yet there was a softness to the way his left arm encircled the small boy sitting in front of him, holding him secure at the same time as he held the reins.  

“Presenting his highest majesty, the King of Asgard, Loki Odinson!” cried the blonde man, nudging his horse out of the king’s way, “Also presenting their royal highnesses, Prince Jörmungandr Lokasson and Prince Fenrir Lokasson.”

The king was such an overwhelming presence, it was only when the names were spoken did Mjoll actually notice the boy sitting on the horse with the king. He looked about five, although Mjoll had heard he was much older, with pale skin that seemed to be slightly silver-grey in the sunlight, and thick black hair. His brow bore deep lines of anxiety as the king brought the horse to a halt and looked down at Mjoll and her husband. They dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

“My king, I welcome you to Adarfell,” said Geirfastr in a silky voice. Mjoll grimaced internally at the tone. It was the same tone he used when he wanted to wheedle something out of a person. “I am Jarl Geirfastr Atlison, chieftain of this village, this is my wife Mjoll and my son and daughters.”

“Thank you for your warm welcome Geirfastr,” said King Loki waving a hand to indicate them to rise up. As they did, Mjoll noticed that the king had let go of Sleipnir’s reins and now had a firmer hold on his son’s middle. He almost seemed to be watching their faces as they looked at Prince Jörmungandr, and Mjoll was careful to only look at the boy with motherly concern –he really was painfully thin looking. She hoped her husband was able to mask his own reaction as well. A quick glance at his expression told her to quickly interfere.

“Please, come inside, I’m sure you’re hungry,” she said with a quick bow of her head and a smile.

King Loki looked at her properly and he smirked. A little thrill passed through Mjoll’s body. It felt like the king was looking inside her and he liked what he saw. To Mjoll’s astonishment, she blushed and had to resist the urge to giggle like a silly girl.

“Yes, Lady Mjoll, I would be grateful for something to drink, as would Jörmungandr,” said the king, swinging off Sleipnir with practised ease, sweeping Jörmungandr down with him and setting the boy on his feet. “Oh, this is my second son, Fenrir, and his nurse Hlin,” he added, turning and extending his long hand to a pretty young blonde woman who was emerging from one of the horseless carriages with a babe in her arms. “I hope you won’t object to her joining me as well as my councillors, will you?”

“Of course not,” said Geirfastr quickly, “Your whole entourage is more than welcome.”

King Loki smirked coldly and waved an airy hand to indicate to Geirfastr to lead the way. As Geirfastr turned away, Mjoll thought she saw the king share an amused grin with a red haired man who bore a badge in the shape of the king’s golden horns on his breast. Even out this far from the capital, Mjoll had heard about the new habit of the king’s most loyal followers to wear his symbol to display his favour and their loyalty.

The luncheon had been laid out in the village hall, the only place big enough to take the numbers the king was travelling with. Geirfastr gave the king his own usual seat, at the centre of the head table, and took the seat to the right of the king, with Mjoll bustling away to organise the serving. When she came back, the king was introducing his entourage to Geirfastr with the air of someone who had done this too many times to count.

“As I said, this is Lady Hlin Voljosdóttir, my sons’ nursemaid,” he held her hand as if presenting her to Geirfastr, and Mjoll watched as she blushed and stared up at the much taller king with adoring eyes. The second prince was a small babe in her other arm, while Prince Jörmungandr was sitting on his father’s knee, peering out over the hall with wide, uneasy eyes. “And this is my Chief Jórsalafar Sverrir Kvasisson.” The king pointed to the red haired man next to Lady Hlin, who gave a cheery grin as Geirfastr frowned in confusion.

“Ah, your… jórsalafar?” he asked carefully.

The king’s smile widened slightly, “Perhaps you haven’t heard about the change I made to my council? I have done away with the outdated term of Lendr Maðr, and tweaked the kinds of powers those who now serve the council can have. Now I have jórsalafarar, crusaders for the good of Asgard. That charmer is Jórsalafar Dag Dellingson.”

The fair haired man gave a tense smile, looking more like a grimace.

“And this is Jórsalafar Ástríthr,” a red haired woman inclined her head. She was older than the king or Chief Jórsalafar, and seemed more worn, as if she had not always lived the life of a noble. Mjoll studied her curiously, she had heard the king had put a former out-law on his council after she had led a defence of his rule. Supposedly she had cut a man’s face clean off with a single swipe, although Mjoll did not really believe such a thing was possible. The rumours had been wild ever since the Rebellion of the Pigs. Suspicion and intrigue over every single member of the old council, with deaths and traitors around every corner, the whole realm had been in a flurry of excited whispers. The Bifröst had been destroyed by one of their own, the Gatekeeper Heimdall had nearly died, the king had claimed Mjölnir for his own and his father and brother were now lost to Asgard as good as if they were dead and four of the seven Lendr maðr who had served both Odin and Loki were dead.

It had been the most exciting and terrifying four years that Asgard had had for millennia. It was also the most entertaining Mjoll had personally had for a very long time. After decades of her husband growing fat and lazy, his once semi-endearing sleazy charm turning to outright insufferable smugness, to watch Geirfastr suddenly sit up and start to worry about his future was very amusing.

Of course, Mjoll reminded herself as she gave her husband his food and his shoulder a light squeeze, she still loved the old fool. She certainly did not want to lose her own position of power as the wife of the Jarl, but a little nervousness might be good for Geirfastr.

“The rest of my council are back in Idavoll, helping my mother with the day to day issues that I cannot deal with directly while I travel the land and see how all my people are doing,” the king finished with a smile. Geirfastr stiffened under Mjoll’s hand.

“Well, I’m certain you’ll find Aderfall very, very well, your majesty,” she said quickly offering him a cup of ale. The king looked at her and Mjoll had the uncomfortable sensation that he was reading her mind. She tried to hold her head up and display confidence, and the king smiled. Despite the charm of his voice, his smile was cold as ice.  

“I’m sure I will Lady Mjoll,” he said quietly, taking the cup from her hands.

**~*~**

“I don’t like him,” grumbled Sverrir to Loki as they walked into the king’s transportable chambers. It looked like a large tent, but the material was deceptive. Light as air, strong as steel and completely soundproof, it was the safest tent in the Nine Realms. It was also large, with four rooms; a central room for private audiences, a bedroom where the king slept, and a second bedroom for the princes, which was shared by their nursemaid. There was also a private room the king retired to when he wanted to be left alone; no one dared enter it without invitation.

“You never like any of them, you really need to stop making assumptions because they’re old and male,” said Loki, amused at the sulky look on his friend’s face. Jörmungandr’s head was heavy on his shoulder, the boy having nodded off during the evening meal. Hlin had already retired with Fenrir, and Loki could hear her singing quietly as she bustled about.

“Hmm, you may have a point, but most of them are as unpleasant as I think they are at first glance. Xenophobic, conservative, misogynistic-”

“Can you spare me the usual first night rant, please? I agree with your sentiments Sverrir and your concerns, but I can’t just assume every chieftain is like that. It’s no better than the assumptions such men as you loathe make about women and seiðr users.” Loki kept his voice low and quiet, he was not waking Jörmungandr on pain of a long, sleepless night.

“You’re right… I suppose I’ve come to expect the worst because we’ve seen it already,” said Sverrir, sounding gloomy as he dropped into the nearest seat. Loki gave him a slightly concerned look and he gave a sad smile, “I’m fine, honestly. I just… well, you know.”

Loki nodded, as he walked across the room and edged past Hlin who smiled at him. Very carefully, Loki lowered Jörmungandr onto his bed and unwrapped the skinny arms from around his neck. Jörmungandr made a faint noise of displeasure and Loki quickly shushed him with a hand over his hair. He petted Jörmungandr’s hair until his son was dead to the world again and then silently retreated to let Hlin tuck him in. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a large bottle half-full of golden liquid and two short tumblers.

“Oh, I’m not there yet,” said Sverrir quickly as Loki poured out a measure of the drink. “And Ilmr will kill me if I come back drunk again.”

“Just a glass, go on,” said Loki swirling the liquid enticingly in the crystal tumbler. Sverrir hesitated one more moment before accepting it. Loki picked up his own tumbler and sipped the smoky drink.

“Where did you say this was from?” asked Sverrir, sniffing at the drink.

“A small island on Midgard, it’s rather well known for its alcoholic drinks, and its people’s reproductive ability,” said Loki, enjoying the faint, warming burn of the whiskey.

“Alcohol and sex? Sounds delightful,” said Sverrir taking a sip and then resting the bottom of the tumbler in his palm.

“Hmm… given how dreary and bitter their music is, I’m not so sure. Last time I was there they were rather… disliked by the Midgardian nobility.”

“So Midgardians do have kings?” asked Sverrir.

“Lots of them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a hundred or more, along with other forms of government,” said Loki. “Of course some are more powerful than others –the last time I was there there were several Empires all vying for power –they were calling it the second world war.”

“Thor would have liked that,” said Sverrir.

“Hmm, maybe,” said Loki quietly, “I’m not sure it would appeal to his sense of honour. Mortal wars are as messy as the ones on… Vanaheim.” He swallowed. Even three years later his throat still closed up at the thought of it.

Sverrir gave him a compassionate look and took a mouthful of the drink before saying quietly, “We’ll find her Loki.”

Loki nodded, “I know. It’s just… the longer we go without even a glimpse of the world the more I start to think… but I tell myself that if she was dead I would know it, if Vanaheim was really gone Heimdall would sense it.”

Sverrir nodded, glancing around at the soft ‘door’ between them and Hlin. The material was soundproof enough that she could not hear them if they were quiet, but he was always cautious.

“Mýrkjartan wants to ask you for leave to go north east,” he said eventually.

“Oh?” asked Loki, sinking into his chair and resting his tumbler on his stomach.

“He thinks he might have tracked down Byleist.”

Loki raised an eyebrow dubiously, “He’s said that before. If he weren’t proving himself in other areas, I would wonder if he was in fact helping the thieving prince.”

“Which is why he asked that I ask you instead of him. He said I would be better at convincing you.” Sverrir gave him a weak smile as Loki snorted. “I think he’s ashamed for failing you in this. He’s been running himself ragged trying to track down Byleist, but… well it would seem skilful deception runs in the family.”

Loki fixed Sverrir with a sharp look of warning, which Sverrir ignored completely, saying, “There’s something else.”

“Oh?”

“Mýrkjartan thinks that the reason he was struggling to find Byleist is because he assumed he was travelling alone.”

Loki sat up a little, “But that’s changed?”

Sverrir nodded, “He’s starting to think there’s someone helping him, in fact, he thinks he knows who.”

“Sverrir, don’t keep me in suspense,” Loki growled, knowing Sverrir was deliberately being difficult to annoy him.

“He thinks it’s Lady Gerd,” Sverrir muttered into his glass.

“Lady –Lady Gerd? Freyr’s missing wife?”

“She disappeared when Byleist did and she would know the land better than Byleist which might be how he’s avoided being caught so far. We both know she had magic herself, she might be cloaking him.”

“Why would she help him?”

“That… well, Mýrkjartan hasn’t said, but I think she agreed to help him in exchange for something. Maybe a way to leave Asgard without her husband knowing, she’s so terrified of him it could have been the only way she could do it.”

Loki nodded thoughtfully, idly tapping his finger on his lower lip as he stared into nothing. “It’s certainly a possibility –and would explain why she never came back. If they’re waiting for the paths between worlds to stabilise so they can go to Jötunheim, they might be moving around in disguise to keep from being noticed.”

“That’s Mýrkjartan’s theory. He’s picked up what feels like Jötun magic, but it’s always so faint he can’t be sure, but if Gerd is hiding him away, that could be why.”

Loki waved his hand to the side, “Tell Mýrkjartan that he may go and do as he feels best.”

Sverrir grunted an understanding and finished his drink. “I’d better get back to my family, Áki is driving Ilmr mad at the moment –he’s not dealing well with the constant changes of all this travelling. Still, we’re nearly at the end of it now,” he finished with forced cheer.

Loki gave him a weak smile, feeling some measure of guilt. After all he had been the one to insist that Sverrir come with him, and Sverrir had refused to leave his family behind. Frigga had tried to convince Loki to leave Sverrir with her to care for Idavoll and oversee the reconstruction of the Bifröst, but Loki had been adamant. When he had decided to take this tour, he could not face the idea of travelling without Sverrir’s support.

“Good night Sverrir,” he said quietly.

“Majesty.” Sverrir bowed his way out, the flap of the entrance letting in a patter of the music and voices outside. Heaving a yawn, Loki got to his feet and downed the last of his drink. As he set the glass down on the table with the bottle, Hlin came out from behind the curtain and smiled at him.

“They’re asleep your majesty.”

“Good, thank you Hlin.” Loki’s eyes dropped to her pretty yellow nightgown. “Not staying up for the fun outside?”

“No your majesty, I’m a little tired today. Fenrir doesn’t really like the carriage, so he fussed all day.” Hlin gave him a smile and crossed the room, touching his arm, “You should get some sleep too, you look exhausted.”

Loki chuckled and took her hand, “Ah Hlin, I asked you to care for my sons, not me. You don’t need to fuss over my wellbeing.”

Hlin’s cheeks coloured slightly and she squeezed his hand, “But your wellbeing matters to the boys, so I am only doing my duty by them if I care for you in turn.”

Loki laughed, “You’ve been taking lessons from me when I’m not paying attention. Careful, having a silvertongue can get you into more trouble than you might like.” He lightly pinched her chin and enjoyed the way it made her giggle.

“I’m willing to take the risk,” she said, “Besides, you brought so much of the government with you, but no one to take care of you.”

“I am no child, I can look after myself,” he replied with a faint smirk. Hlin’s smile slipped slightly and she tightens her grip on his hand.

“Just because you can, does not mean you have to,” she said in a quiet voice, pushing her hair back from her face as she looked up at him. “I was never very good at my duties for your mother, I know that, but ever since you gave me this position I know now that it was because I wasn’t suited to that, but… I am suited to this. I like caring for the boys… and for you. Please your majesty, you should rest.”

“After I do one thing,” said Loki giving her hand a final squeeze before letting it go. He went into his own sleeping space and went straight to the mirror in the corner. He let out a heavy breath and stared at his own reflection. He let his vision slide out of focus and concentrated on seeing beyond.

_Show me… Show me Vanaheim. Show me Sigyn._

The colours of his own face swirled and darkened into black. Loki kept his mind fixed on two words. Vanaheim. Sigyn. The swirling colours slowly came back into focus, but all they showed was black space, stars twinkling in the far distance and a sun drifting through nothing. Loki screwed up his face, trying to squint at the darkness. Sometimes when he concentrated hard enough he would see… there! A faint, barely there, ripple of the fabric of space. It was the faintest of distortions, but it was definitely there, round and large, large enough to be a planet.

It was not the figment of a desperate imagination, for Sverrir, Heimdall and Kvasir had all seen it, it had been the last thing Kvasir had discussed with him before-

Loki blinked and looked away, his vision taking a few seconds to clear. Heaving a sigh, he stripped off his clothes and pulled on a pair of soft trousers before climbing into bed. He laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, waving his hand to douse the lights in his room. In his mind he could see the faint distortion, over and over again. It was the only clue they had at the moment about Vanaheim’s status. It was the only thing he could hold onto to give him any hope.

_Good night Sigyn_ , he thought, repeating the promise he had made every night for 3 years, _I’ll see you tomorrow_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, I am back, a bit later than I had anticipated, but what can you do, RL is a harsh mistress? Anyway, I am working on this story and have a bit of surplus built up –current word count is just short of 38k words, but I don’t really have a set schedule for posting, it will depend on how the story is developing, because I am trying to keep a very tight leash on this one so it doesn’t turn into a monster (well, no more than it already is).  
> Anyway, welcome, I hope you enjoy this next instalment of the Aimless Play Series and as always, feel free to send me your thoughts.


	2. The King's Gift

**Chapter 2 –The King’s Gift**

The next morning, Loki was woken by the sensation of a small body climbing into his bed. A small hand pressed down on his arm and shaggy hair tickled his temple as a voice whispered,

“Papa, are you awake?”

Loki grunted, mostly for show, and rolled over to face Jörmungandr, throwing his arm around the small boy and wrestling him into a cuddle. Jörmungandr giggled and squirmed to break free.

“Papa!”

“No, more sleep,” Loki muttered, squeezing his son tight against his chest and letting out a fake snore.

“Papa! You promised a lesson,” Jörmungandr giggled, reaching up and tugging on Loki’s ear. Loki’s hand snapped up and pulled the grabby fingers away.

“Told you not to pull ears Jörmungandr,” he said in a more alert tone.

“Sorry,” said Jörmungandr, not sounding sorry at all. He sat up and pressed his two hands on Loki’s shoulder, giving him a vigorous shake, almost jumping on the bed with the force of his movements. “Come on Papa!” he grunted, “You promised!”

“Alright, alright!” Loki groaned, sitting up. Jörmungandr had no more warning before Loki hooked him around the middle and dropped him into his lap. The small boy shrieked before Loki had even begun to poke his ribs with long fingers. “You’re nothing but trouble my boy, isn’t that right? Nothing but trouble!”

“No, no stop, tickles!” Jörmungandr cackled, thrashing madly to escape. Loki pushed up his arm and tickled the underarm and he screamed with laughter –to the inexperienced ear it might have sounded like he was in agony. “Stop! Stop Papa!”

“Ha!” Loki threw his arms around Jörmungandr’s head and shoulders and crushed him close, growling playfully as he hugged his son and pressed kisses to his hair. “My troublemaker, my mischievous boy.”

Jörmungandr giggled and squirmed his arms free to wrap around Loki’s neck, panting in his ear. “My papa.”

Loki grinned and gave him an extra tight squeeze before releasing him. “Well! Lessons, eh? You’re not dressed for them.” He pulled on the light top Jörmungandr was wearing. Jörmungandr mimicked the gesture on Loki’s trousers,

“Neither are you,” he quipped, sticking his tongue out and giggling around it. Loki reached out and caught the tip of the offensive organ in his finger and thumb.

“Someone will cut that tongue out if you don’t keep it in your head,” he chided, then winked at his son and stuck his own tongue out. Jörmungandr let out a muffled sound around his caught tongue and tried to grab for Loki’s, but he was too quick. He let Jörmungandr go and set him on his feet on the floor, “Go on, get dressed and we’ll have lessons.”

Jörmungandr bounced out of the room with a cheer and Loki yawned around his broad grin. Concentrating, he used his magic to scrub his skin clean and then he pulled on the loosest, lightest clothes he owned. It was the height of summer and it was becoming unbearably hot. Jörmungandr and Fenrir did not seem to have the same aversion to heat Loki had, but then again, they were only a quarter frost giant.

Loki snorted to himself and picked up the satchel he kept ready for his lessons with Jörmungandr, leaving the room. Hlin was already pouring out a fresh smelling tea for him and Jörmungandr.

“Good morning your majesty,” she said with a light curtsey.

“Morning Hlin, everyone sleep well last night?”

“Mmhm, Fenrir was a little fussy just before dawn, but I scratched behind his ear and he settled again,” Hlin threw the crib in the room a fond smile. Loki crossed to the crib and checked on his baby son. Fenrir was splayed out on his stomach, his little tongue poking out of his snout. His furry ears twitched in dreams and his tail wagged excitedly. Loki stroked his back and hovered his hand over the tail so it tickled his palm for a moment.

“Did he shift in his sleep?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, almost as soon as he fell asleep he shifted into pup form,” said Hlin as she set out food on the table. “I gave him a bottle and he was so sleepy he stayed a puppy, but you know him, once he’s awake and feels safe, he’ll turn Ás again.”

Loki nodded and scooped Fenrir up into his arms, tucking the wet nose against his neck as he sat down to eat one-handed. Jörmungandr came running in dressed in the most mismatched colours Loki could have imagined. A red shirt, purple trousers, one blue sock and one yellow sock, with a white cap to complete it. Jörmungandr clambered up onto his chair and grabbed his fork as Hlin and Loki caught each other’s eye and smothered their amusement. Jörmungandr had a love of colour that neither of them were interested in curbing, but it did mean his clothing choices were a little chaotic.

Jörmungandr started shovelling food into his mouth as fast as he could and Loki said, “Jörmungandr I won’t go any faster if you finish your food first, so you might as well eat slowly. Your brother is in need of feeding too.”

“Can’t Hlin do it?” demanded Jörmungandr with a whine in his voice. Loki fixed him with a sharp look and he quailed a little, “Never mind.”

“Jörmungandr… do you think you’re more important than your brother?” asked Loki quietly. Hlin tensed behind Jörmungandr but she said nothing as Jörmungandr shrank in his seat, his shoulders rising.

“No papa, I know we’re both important,” he said quietly. “I just was really excited about lessons.”

“I understand that, but your brother is just a small baby so he can’t join in on the lessons yet, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t spend time with him too.” Loki struggled to keep his voice measured as he said this. He hated that this topic was still so sore for him.

“I know, I’m sorry papa,” Jörmungandr whimpered, climbing down from his seat and trying to clamber into Loki’s lap. Loki set him up and held him close, burying his nose in Jörmungandr’s hair as Jörmungandr hid his face in Loki’s chest.

“I know you didn’t mean it my son, it’s all right,” he said quietly, “But I need you to remember that I lost you both and I love you both. So spending time with Fenrir is just as important to me as spending time with you.”

Jörmungandr nodded against Loki’s chest and sniffled, one arm snaking around Loki’s neck, the other hand resting on Fenrir's back and petting his fur.

“I wish Fenrir would grow, then he could play with me, and we could have lessons together,” he muttered.

Loki chuckled, “In time my boy, in time.”

“Will it be like with Thundi? I liked having him in lessons, he was fun.”

Loki’s smile faded slightly and he looked down at Fenrir who was shifting into his babe form. He reset him in his arms, warmth flooding his chest as Fenrir opened his green eyes and burbled up at him, little hands reaching for Loki’s face. Jörmungandr slipped a finger into Fenrir’s hand and grinned when it was squeezed. Hlin sat next to Loki and gently petted the downy hair on Fenrir’s hair. She caught Loki’s eye and smiled at him, her other hand resting on his arm. Loki tightened his hold on Jörmungandr and wished that this was his world.

**~*~**

The forest was quiet in the early morning, which was perfect as Loki and Jörmungandr stepped their way between the trees, seeking out the best place for a lesson. Loki’s satchel bumped against his thigh as he held Jörmungandr’s hand and guided him along.

“There papa!” Jörmungandr pointed to the right at a small open space. Loki smiled in satisfaction.

“Very good choice. Come on.”

They entered the clearing, the leaves broad and healthy above their heads, and Loki set the satchel down on the ground. As he scanned the area for anyone who might have followed them, Jörmungandr rummaged through the satchel and took out a smaller bag. He opened it and tipped the contents into his hand, revealing small stones with runes engraved upon them.

“Can I do it today?” he asked as he rolled the stones in his small hand.

“If you think you can remember it all,” said Loki with a nod. Jörmungandr beamed and looked around, eyes narrowed in thought. Loki waited, fighting down the itch to just give his son the answers, remembering his frustrations with his father who had never seemed to help, but had made Loki do it all himself. He supposed the joke was on Odin now, considering how skilled he had become, but still, it was hard to just let Jörmungandr think for himself. It was not an ability that had come naturally to him, but as he watched Jörmungandr slowly set down the runestones in their proper places, he felt a sense of pride and ease come upon him that helped make this worthwhile.

When Jörmungandr had finished putting the stones in the right places, he looked to Loki for approval, which he gave with a smile. The delight on Jörmungandr’s face warmed Loki’s stomach and he beckoned his son back to him. They sat on the ground, Jörmungandr in Loki’s lap and Loki took hold of Jörmungandr’s hands,

“Now, focus on the stones, do you remember what the runes mean?” he asked quietly. Jörmungandr nodded, his hair tickling Loki’s face. “Tell me.”

“Kenaz, protection and creative energy,” said Jörmungandr as he pointed at the stone in front of them. “Ansuz, wisdom and learning,” to the left, “Eihwaz, removes obstacles, protection, access to spirit world, endurance,” to the right, “And Dagaz, security, truth revealed to the light and enlig-enlighten.”

“Enlightenment,” said Loki patiently. “Very good, you’re remembering well. Now focus on the meanings, on what you want the runes to do for you. Gather the seiðr to you, easy, gently, that’s it… now let it go.”

Jörmungandr let out a quiet sigh and opened his fists. Softly glowing wisps of dark green slid from his fingertips and out to the stones. Loki watched the wisps struggle to reach the stones, and carefully nudged them along, just a little. The wisps managed to struggle on and brushed the stones, which glowed faintly, then a flash of light encircled them.

They were now sealed inside the clearing, no one could see or hear them, and would gain a subtle sense that they should not enter this patch of forest.

“Good boy,” said Loki, lifting Jörmungandr to sit facing him, his bony knees touching Loki’s shins. “Now, where were we?”

“Seiðr carrying,” said Jörmungandr promptly.

“Ah yes,” said Loki as if he had really forgotten. “Now, let me see how you’ve practised.”

Loki loved his lessons with his son, it was a time when they were just the two of them, and it let him see how Jörmungandr had grown in the three years he had had him back. Although Jörmungandr’s physical growth was severely stunted at the moment, just like Fenrir's, his mind was always developing, always growing, and Loki was determined to nurture that. He did everything he could never to miss this time. Traveling around Asgard had consumed much of his attention, so the time he did have free he lavished on his sons. Fenrir was relatively mindless attention, he was still only a small babe and he seemed mostly pleased when he was fed, clean and held. Loki liked sitting in his rooms late in the evening with Fenrir asleep on his chest. Jörmungandr on the other hand was inquisitive, curious and playful when he was feeling confident, but his temper was unpredictable. Loki had realised that when there had been an unfortunate accident involving two boys who had been less than friendly to his son, and Jörmungandr’s temper had gotten the better of him.

Loki had arrived after the incident to be told his son had tried to eat the boys. Jörmungandr had staunchly attested that he had only tried to bite them, seiðr crackling at his fingertips. Loki’s rage at the two boys who had upset his son had been close to insanity, and Sverrir had all but thrown Fenrir into Loki’s arms to calm him while he had dealt with the bullies. After that Sverrir had suggested that Loki start teaching Jörmungandr how to control his latent seiðr.

The seiðr lessons were as much about controlling Jörmungandr’s temper as it was about using magic. Frigga had done it with Loki, although in his case it had been to boost his confidence and give him a sense of self. Jörmungandr did not seem to suffer from that same insecurity, for which Loki was very grateful. However, despite all the assurances of the Norns, Jörmungandr did seem to retain some sense memory of his time as a serpent for so long. His instinct when threatened was to growl and hiss, even outright shift into his serpent form and attack. Loki would not let his son ostracise himself or be ostracised by the people because he, Loki, had failed to look after him.

After the lesson, Loki took down the protective barrier around them and put the stones away. Jörmungandr held his spell book in his lap, squinting at his childish handwriting. Loki’s spell book lay on the ground in front of him.

“My writing’s not nice like yours papa,” he said in a sulky voice.

“It takes time to learn how to write neatly,” said Loki as he picked up the satchel and dropped the small bag of runestones away. “My first book looked very like yours, remember? I showed you it before we left.”

“I know… but I want mine to look like yours does now.” Jörmungandr prodded the open page with a finger. Loki spared the page a glance. To him it was just his normal writing, with notes in the margins and a few doodles, nothing very pretty to admire. He scooped up the book and set it away in the bag, then held the bag out to Jörmungandr to put his away.

“Practise is the only answer for skills Jörmungandr, if you love something enough, you’ll work at it.”

“Is that why you still look for Princess Sigyn?” asked Jörmungandr, taking his hand as they started back to the village. Loki paused and looked down at his big pale eyes, “Because you love her?”

“Yes, that is it exactly.”

“Do you love her more than me and Fenrir?” Jörmungandr asked as he came to a halt. “Or did you look for us every day?”

Loki’s stomach lurched and he looked down at his son, with his dark hair and pale eyes. He reached out and picked him up, setting Jörmungandr on his hip,

“I need you to listen to me Jörmungandr, are you listening?” he asked in a quiet voice. Jörmungandr nodded, eyes wide. “I will never, ever, love anyone the way I love my children. You, Hela, and Fenrir… you will never know how much I love you until you grow up and have your own children. I looked for ways to bring you home but I couldn’t find one. How I love Sigyn is very different to how I love you and your siblings, and as you get older you’ll understand that there are many, many ways to love someone, but none of them steal love from anyone else.”

Jörmungandr smiled, nodded, and threw his arms around Loki’s neck. “Love you papa!”

Loki squeezed him tight and brought them back to the village where Sverrir was waiting for him.

“Alright?” he asked at once, seeing how tight Loki was holding his son. Loki set Jörmungandr down on his feet and said,

“Go and play with some of the children Jörmungandr, go on.”

Jörmungandr skipped away and Loki’s chest ached when he disappeared into the small crowd of people. After a moment he sighed and looked at Sverrir,

“When will I stop feeling so…?”

“Wrenched open whenever he walks away from you?” asked Sverrir in a chipper voice.

“Exactly,” Loki sighed and folded his arms, “I feel… so exposed, and I don’t mind being open with my sons about how much I love them but…”

Sverrir shrugged, “You’re being a little sickly, but not as much as you think. It’s just, well, you’re not used to this openness with your feelings, so it feels worse than it is. Besides you’re spending all your time with the boys and you’re trying to make sure they never doubt your love. You’re over-compensating a bit, that’s all. All things considered, I’m not surprised.”

“Well, I would like to stop before my tongue turns to sugar,” said Loki with a huff, “I don’t mind with the boys, but otherwise…” he gave a full body shudder. “All this sentiment is making me itch.”

“As long as you don’t start crooning over injured baby birds, I think you’re safe. We could pull that off when we were Jörmungandr’s age, but now it would just look silly.”

Loki chuckled, then sighed as he saw Jarl Geirfastr bustling up to him, clearly on a mission.

“Your majesty.” Geirfastr bowed deeply to Loki and so missed the twitch of Sverrir’s lips as he fought a laugh.

“Yes Jarl Geirfastr,” said Loki trying to sound anything but weary.

“As you requested, my people are prepared to meet with you in person. Ah, but if I may ask, what exactly is this about?”

“You’ll find out when it’s your turn,” said Sverrir sharply, “Now, where shall his majesty be meeting with people?”

Geirfastr glowered at Sverrir and pointed at the house that had already been shown as his own, “My house is best suited to it. It is at your disposal, your majesty.”

“Thank you kindly,” said Loki in his most polite voice, gesturing for the man to lead them in. As Geirfastr brought them into the central room where Loki’s throne had been set up, Loki inhaled slowly several times to focus his mind and calm his emotions. He sat down and took Gungnir from Dag, who was already standing at his left with a tablet glowing with names. Geirfastr was waved out and Loki took a final breath.

“Let’s begin.”

The first person to enter was a young woman who looked absolutely terrified. Her clothes were shabby, but clean, and her hands bore evidence of labour.

“This is Rind Eriksdóttir, she’s a maid in this house,” said Dag as Rind dropped to her knees and bowed her head, trembling. Loki sighed and leaned forward,

“Madam, I insist you display some dignity for yourself,” he said curtly. Rind shuddered and looked up through her eyelashes at Dag and Sverrir as if hoping they would save her.

“When you kneel to the king, you only rest on one knee, and you place your hand on your heart,” said Sverrir in a kinder tone. Rind flushed puce and quickly reset her stance.

“I’m so sorry!” she gasped, “I thought only warriors were allowed to do that.”

“All the king’s subjects are equal, therefore they must all greet the king the same way,” said Dag in a drawling tone as if he was bored.

“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologise, simply do it,” said Dag, his eyes on his list as if it contained all the world’s knowledge.

“Now,” said Loki as he smothered a grin. “You are currently a maid to the jarl.”

“Yes your majesty.”

“And what are your aspirations beyond that?”

“I… my aspirations?”

“Your dreams, what do you want to do with yourself beyond being a maid?”

“I… I don’t… Well I hope one day to marry and be a mother?” there was an unmistakable question in her voice, as she clearly expected them to be seeking a specific answer. Loki slumped into his throne, feeling an oncoming headache, as Sverrir leaned forward with his kindly smile.

“You misunderstand, we are not looking for a right answer, only an honest one. If you could do anything, what would it be?”

Rind stared at Sverrir in confusion for a solid minute before saying, “I would like to run my own bakery, I’m a good pastry maker, but I can’t afford it, even with the salary the jarl pays me.”

“Have you any kind of business plan?” asked Dag looking up from his tablet. “Some sort of calculations regarding cost of resources, plans for distribution?”

“I… do… well I have kept a book on my recipes, and in it I’ve made note of prices for fruits and sweeteners over the years, if that’s what you mean.”

“So you do have some sort of plan?”

“It –it’s really more of a dream, as I said I cannot afford it,” said Rind sadly.

“What if the palace were to fund you the money? Would you actually go through with your plans?”

Rind shifted back slightly, her eyes narrowing in slight suspicion, “What would I have to do for such a gift?”

“Pay the palace back with a reasonable interest within an agreed upon time,” said Dag calmly. The three of them were far too used to reactions like Rind’s to be phased anymore. “It would all be very straight forward.”

“So… you give me money to fund my bakery and I repay you with interest? How much interest?” asked Rind. She sounded calmer now and Loki felt a sliver of satisfaction at this.

“It would depend on the loan,” said Dag, “A man will be looking for any such plans before we leave, give it to him and the palace will review it. If it seems feasible, you will be contacted by a representative from the palace to negotiate terms with you. Do you understand?”

Rind nodded, looking dazed, “But… why would you be so kind to me? I’m just a maid.”

“You’re a subject of Asgard,” said Loki reaching out a hand for her to take, which she did with a tremble, “That means you are worth as much as any other subject, so long as you contribute to the continued success and strength of the realm. A bakery will generate skills and food, creativity and delight in your community, which is important. For too long Asgard has become a realm of divisions, and we cannot be that way, so I am asking of all my subjects, will you help me make Asgard whole again?”

Rind stared up into his face, wide-eyed and faintly flushed, “Yes my king, I will help you.”

Loki smiled and kissed the backs of her fingers, “I am glad to hear it. Don’t forget to give my man your proposition.”

Rind nodded and got to her feet, bowing deeply. “Thank you, my king, thank you.”

Loki gave a mild nod and waved his hand in dismissal. Rind hurried out with a skip in her step. Loki waited until the door shut behind her and slumped in his seat,

“How many today?” he asked quietly.

“Only six,” said Dag easily. Loki sighed and sat up.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“My king, one might think you didn’t like improving the lives of every single person in the realm personally,” said Sverrir, leaning on the throne’s back and smirking down at Loki, who groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“Shut up Sverrir.”

“Yes my king.”

Loki waved a hand to indicate the next person could come in.

This was a project he had begun almost as soon as the dust had settled and Loki had recruited enough people. He wanted to force Asgard to change faster by giving people who had never had chances the opportunity to become what they dreamed. Some were offered money to start their own business, others were picked based on skills they had, sent to schools or offered placements. Just because it had taken Loki three years to get here, did not mean these villages had not been examined by the king.

What Loki was especially after was corruption and magic. He was going to kill the corruption at its many little sources, and encourage seiðr practise. So far his government had found twenty-six seiðr users, ranging from old to very young, most of whom had been bullied, coerced or downright beaten into submission, who showed vast amounts of promise. Most of these Loki had set back to the capital, if they were willing, to be trained and educated in the new seiðr institute he had founded.

Mýrkjartan seemed to have a particular knack for sniffing out people with hidden skills and talents, and when he was not searching for Byleist, he was whispering in Loki’s ear about some person or other he had found. Of course, it would make sense that Mýrkjartan would take this kind of project personally.

After the sixth person, a young man who had shown promise in seiðr, had been given his choices and left, Loki stood up and stretched, hearing his back pop. He grimaced.

“I’m old.”

“Shut up,” said Sverrir which earned him a sharp look from Dag, but Loki laughed. He was far too used to Sverrir’s manner by now to take issue, and besides, Sverrir knew better than to speak like that in front of the public. Loki never would have thought he would appreciate such disrespect as a king, but it was actually very welcome after days and weeks of sycophants trying to kiss his arse and call it delicious. Sverrir reminded Loki not to lose his head among such gestures of adoration and wheedling. Despite knowing better, it was hard not to be taken in by such words when they were often the kind of validation he had been searching for all his life.

“What time is the feast?” Loki asked Dag, who promptly informed him it would be at sunset, “Good. That gives me time to assess Geirfastr properly. Where’s Mýrkjartan?”

“He’s preparing to leave to hunt for Byleist. I’ll get him,” said Sverrir.

“And when you’ve sent him to me, will you go and check on my sons?” asked Loki, squeezing Sverrir’s arm tight. It was the only way he could avoid actually going and doing it himself.

“Of course,” said Sverrir with a smile, as if Loki’s grip on his arm was not in the least bit painful. “I’ll also check in with Ástríthr, she’ll have the court following her orders, as usual.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing,” said Dag primly.

“Are you mad? She runs the court’s activities like a general! I only wish it could run as smoothly back in the city,” said Sverrir as he and Dag left the room. Loki, alone for a moment, covered his eyes and took several deep breaths as the silence pressed in around him. For a moment he felt the press of emotions that he had been fighting for three years, which merged into a sense of utter despair and hopelessness that made him want to curl up and never move again. Then he lifted his head and sniffed hard, forcing the feeling down with practised ease and sat in the high chair as stiff and stern as a statue, waiting for the next problem he had to deal with.   

**~*~**

Mýrkjartan knelt to Loki and bowed his head before he spoke, “My king, you summoned me.”

“Yes, I did, what is your measure of Geirfastr, Mýrkjartan?”

“He is a man of unbridled arrogance,” said Mýrkjartan at once, “He believes that since he inherited his position of Jarl, he is above those around him, but finds that he does not feel it when interacting with the others in the village. So he tends to be an overbearing parent and husband with his family. He believes in the traditions of old, and dislikes change with all the passion of a frightened animal. He’s afraid you’re here to strip away all his power so that you will have more control over Asgard.”

“Is he abusive? To his family or his people?”

“Not physically, although you and I can both appreciate a sharp tongue can cut so much deeper.” Mýrkjartan gave Loki a smirk, which Loki chuckled at.

“True, but still, what do you make of him?”

“I… I don’t like him, he’s a bully and a self-entitled prick… but that doesn’t mean he necessarily deserves to lose his position, not when I can’t accuse him of being a terrible leader.”

“That’s for me to determine,” said Loki, “But I could use your perspective. Do the people in his town want him to remain as a leader?”

“That… I cannot be certain,” said Mýrkjartan, “He’s not the only one who is a traditionalist around here. And I have not yet found any evidence that he has been as cruel to women, seiðr users or those of an alternate sexuality the way some of them have, however, I cannot foresee any actual improvement or advancement in the local society while he remains in power. I believe that even if you can convince him to change, it won’t last and will require the crown’s constant monitoring to be effective, which is not really feasible.”

“Careful Mýrkjartan, you’re starting to sound like a politician.”

Mýrkjartan’s pale eyes widened and he said in a horror-struck tone, “I deeply apologise my king! I will stop that at once.”

Loki clasped him at the back of the neck for a moment and then dismissed him with a nod of the head. As Mýrkjartan started to leave, Loki called him back,

“When will you report to me about Prince Byleist?”

“As soon as I can, hopefully within three or four days. Majesty, I am much more confident than I have been about this lead.”

“Good luck,” said Loki with a nod. Moments after Mýrkjartan left, Geirfastr walked in. He was blotchy faced and a vein was pulsing in his temple, and his beard seemed to quiver with indignation. Loki smirked to himself and waved a hand at the chair that had been left for him to take before the throne.

“Jarl Geirfastr, sit with me.”

Geirfastr sat very slowly, as if expecting the chair to explode as his backside touched it. Loki hid a grin behind his hand, affecting a thoughtful expression as he regarded the man before him.

“How long have you been jarl of Aderfell?”

“By our reckoning? About seven hundred years,” said Geirfastr in a formal, attempting to be reasonable tone.

“So half my life,” said Loki, stroking his chin, deliberately drawing his attention to its bareness compared to the beard on Geirfastr. “And your children? How many did you say you had?”

“A son called Kurth, and six daughters,” said Geirfastr, not noticing his own way of describing his offspring. Clearly he was a doting father to his son, and his daughters were an afterthought.

“Seven children, and they are all very young, aren’t they?” said Loki.

“My last wife could not provide me with children, so when she died I remarried and only then started my family.”

Loki nodded, “Ah. Tell me, what side did you take during the Rebellion of the Pigs?”

Geirfastr drew himself up, “I stood by my king of course. I am no traitor, not like Tyr, or even the warriors three and the once lady Sif.”

“Hmmm, your mention of five other traitors to compare yourself too seems a touch excessive. Perhaps you did not physically stand with the rebels, but maybe in your heart you agreed with their sentiments.”

“Never my king!”

“So you do not agree with the idea that Asgard should remain unchanged in the face of time? That it is high time we saw advancement for those of our people who were marginalised in times past?”

Geirfastr opened and shut his mouth several times before saying, “Well, I would not… all Asgardians ought to be… that is to say… I am a man who believes in tradition. That does not mean I will reject an improved plough-system for the sake of tradition. And if these, as you described them, marginalised persons are brought into the machine that is Asgard to improve it, I can only see benefits.”

Loki stared at him impassively for a long time. It was not a direct lie, apparently Loki’s ability to detect liars had been well reported. Still, he did not believe this man, garbed in his traditional Jarl armour, probably owned by his great-grandfather, with his beard and hair trimmed like Odin’s.

“So, you see the people I speak of as tools, rather than people,” Loki said finally.

“I only meant that I see the benefits to their… inclusion.”

“And you don’t see the benefits of kindness to another Ás-being? To show someone who practises seiðr, to show a woman the same regard you would give to me, or a warrior?”

“You are the king, you are above us all,” said Geirfastr firmly.

Loki smirked, “I have no interest in being placed on a pedestal made of suffering people. Now, answer my question. Do you see no reason to treat a man who lies with another man with anything but contempt?”

Geirfastr flushed and coughed, “It is an unmanly thing to do, my king.” His eyes darted across Loki’s face, apparently searching him for some mark of ergi tendencies. They always did, as if Loki could only care about these kinds of people if he was one. Loki kept his expression very blank, giving nothing away.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he asked quietly, while inside he was starting to shimmer with anger. “Is it written down somewhere?”

“It’s just something everyone knows,” said Geirfastr at once, then grimaced as he clearly realised he had said the wrong thing. “I mean, a man and a woman, that makes sense, it’s for procreation, it’s natural.”

“Have you ever been to a brothel?” asked Loki in the same voice.

“I…” Geirfastr squirmed and nodded, “But I don’t-”

“Were you hoping to impregnate the woman you bedded?”

“No!”

“Then you weren’t having sex for procreation, therefore that was unnatural, by your own logic.”

“But it wasn’t!”

“Then why is a man with a man, or a woman with a woman unnatural?”

“Because it is! What kind of man would lower himself to being taken like a woman?” demanded Geirfastr in frustration.

“… so being female is bad?” asked Loki, widening his eyes as if this was news to him. “How is that?”

“They are weaker.”

“They grow people inside themselves, how exactly is that weak? Jarl Geirfastr, I delivered my sons, and my daughter and believe me, there is nothing weak about what women do to give birth.” Somewhere, wherever Dag and Sverrir were listening in on the conversation, they were probably biting on their hands to keep their laughter quiet.

“That may be the case, but in all other things, they are weaker, they need our protection, otherwise they would be hurt, raped even.”

“Surely the answer there is to make sure no man can rape, or wants to rape, given it is a terrible crime that should never be committed. I take it you’re aware of my new laws regarding the punishment of rapists, yes? And my new laws regarding the punishment for spousal abuse?” Loki smiled sweetly as Geirfastr paled and nodded. “Some would say I’m being harsh, but personally, I think it’s only fair. After all, the victim must carry the memory for the rest of their lives, surely the guilty should bear a similar fate?”

Geirfastr nodded, he seemed to have lost his nerve. Loki sat back in his throne and tapped his fingertips on the arm, saying slowly, “Do you know why I’ve removed so many jarls from their positions across Asgard and allowed new elections to take place?”

There was no answer.

“It’s because, Geirfastr, I don’t like bullies. I don’t like men, or women, who think they can crush people underfoot because they are different, because they deviate from a specific image of Asgard, which is a strong, masculine warrior, an image my brother embodied with every breath. But you see, if Asgard only had them, there would be no Asgard. This land would not exist without those seiðr wielders who ripped it out of Vanaheim and set it in the stars. This realm would not exist if the women who came here had not been strong and willing to put their bodies through enormous strain to give the realm its next generation. Oh it’s true we would not be here without warriors like my brother, but without all the others there would be no Asgard for the warriors to fight for. My brother embodied the ideal warrior class that has dominated this realm for so long, with Mjölnir as his symbol of power.

“Yet now my brother is gone, banished because he did not understand that all must be in balance, that a warrior must be willing to listen to reason, and not simply to honour, that not every fight is a just one. Now, I am the one who carries Mjölnir.”

The hammer thudded against the stone as Loki set her down at his feet, his eyes fixed on Geirfastr who seemed to realise what was coming.

“I cannot make everyone in Asgard equal in stature, no world can actually do that without serious consequences to other areas, but what I can do, Jarl Geirfastr, is make sure that every single person who lives under my rule knows that they are safe from persecution and have the right to dignity and safety, regardless of who they are and what they do.”

Geirfastr stared at Mjölnir and said in a dazed voice, “You’re going to take away my title, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I regret to say, I don’t believe your town is safe in your hands anymore. Not when I want to make Asgard a greater realm by having it embrace all its parts. That said, I don’t believe you are malicious in your beliefs, just stubborn, so I will not humiliate you, nor will I force you from this house. I will order that a new home for the jarl of Aderfell be built, and you and your family may remain here, and earn a living like anyone else.”

It was a strange thing to watch simple words break men that seemed so utterly unshakable, even in their bluster their confidence in themselves was so strong it was hard to fathom it crumbling. Yet as Loki stared at Geirfastr’s face, he could see that self-belief disappear.

“I will give you time to prepare, you may step down yourself, but you must do it within two weeks,” said Loki, rising to his feet. “I shall see you at the feast.”

“Yes my king,” said Geirfastr quietly. Loki stared at him a moment more, then left the room without looking back.

**~*~**

The next day the court packed up and departed from Adarfell. It was too small to merit staying any longer, but as Loki mounted his horse behind Jörmungandr, he caught the eye of Mjoll, the wife of Geirfastr. She was staring at him as if he had struck her across the face, as were her two elder daughters. There was a part of Loki that wanted to go and explain himself to them, but he had learned from having done this many times before that it never helped. Those who lost positions because the king found them lacking almost always had families who would suffer in turn from the loss. It was an unfortunate fact of his mission and he had to keep it from distracting him. So he simply bid the village farewell, refusing to look too long at any one person and then off they went.

As the village disappeared into the distance, Jörmungandr sighed quietly and his head dropped forward.

“What’s wrong my clever boy?” asked Loki squeezing Jörmungandr around the middle.

“I wish we could stay in one place,” Jörmungandr sighed, “It’s no fun. I make friends and never see them again.”

Loki did not speak for a moment, then he pulled Jörmungandr closer and said, “I know it’s hard, and I’m sorry. However, I must travel across Asgard for the sake of the realm.”

“Why do I have to go with you?” growled Jörmungandr, his voice taking on a faint hiss. Loki held him tighter.

“What would I do if I couldn’t see my sons every day?” he asked quietly and Jörmungandr sighed again.

“You’d miss us.”

“Yes, I would miss you.”

“But, papa, you missed us for a long time, why can’t you miss us now and let me stay somewhere and make friends?”

“What about Áki? Don’t you like him? And there are other children travelling with us.”

“Áki’s fine, but he’s… only Áki. And everyone else is too old or too young. I miss Thundi,” said Jörmungandr wearily. Loki tilted his head and squeezed his son again.

“I am sorry Jörmungandr, but we are nearly done. Remember the map I showed you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we’ve almost done a full circle of the whole realm of Asgard, so it won’t be much longer.”

Jörmungandr peered up at Loki, his pale eyes wide with hope, “So, after the next town no more travelling?”

“Not quite. Five more towns and then we’ll be heading back to Idavoll, where Amma Frigga is, and then you won’t have to go travelling like this again. We’ll only travel for fun,” Loki swore.

“Can Thundi come to?”

Loki’s stomach clenched, “Of course, if you like.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Jörmungandr seemed more cheerful after this, but by the time they reached the next village, he was asleep in the carriage with Hlin, bored of trees and grass. As the court rumbled into the town, and he saw that the masses were waiting eagerly to welcome him, Loki sighed and reminded himself,

_Just five more, five more and you’re done. You can do this, you can do this._


	3. Frustration & Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, I’m not thrilled with this chapter –but I’m sick of looking at it after several heavy rewrites. Hope you enjoy it!

It would be impossible to overstate how relived Loki was to return to his private tent after finally escaping the jabbering of the latest jarl. Hlin was waiting for him with a cup in her hands, which she held out as soon as he stepped inside the softly lit space.

“Hot cider my king, to soothe the temper,” she said in her soft, musical voice. Loki’s ire, bubbling so close to the surface, eased slightly as he looked at her. He took the cup and inhaled the spices and sweet tangy scent of the cider. It made him think of chilly evenings, long nights in bed wrapped around another body, a sense of absolute contentment and belonging. A small sip soothed the tension even more and he let out the heaviest breath, opening his eyes to look at Hlin who smiled at him slightly.

“Ah Hlin, what would I do without you?” he sighed, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Hlin blushed with pleasure and demurred with a little giggle. Loki cross the room and dropped into his chair, his head falling back in exhaustion. “Will this accursed tour never end?”

Hlin came up behind him and buried her fingers in his hair, beginning a scalp massage that had Loki purring in seconds. It eased tensions he had not been aware of and soon he was a boneless heap in the chair, his cup dangling from his fingertips.

“There now my king,” Hlin hummed, “It will be alright. As you told Jörmungandr only this morning, we are only three more towns away from returning home.”

“They cannot come soon enough,” said Loki his lip curling slightly, “Especially if the last two are anything like this chieftain. What a piece of-”

“Prince Jörmungandr, what are you doing up?”

Loki’s head snapped up at Hlin’s words to find Jörmungandr watching them with narrowed eyes.

“I want some water,” he said petulantly.

“I’ll get you some sweetling,” said Hlin moving to serve him, but Loki grabbed her wrist and held her behind him, saying quietly,

“Jörmungandr can get it himself, can’t you?”

Jörmungandr frowned, but he walked across the room and Loki watched him very carefully as he poured himself a glass of water, using two small hands to lift the jug. As he did, Loki nudged Hlin’s hands to his hair again and she calmly resumed her scratching and massaging. Jörmungandr drank his water, staring mulishly at the two of them and when he had finished the water, he went back to his and Fenrir’s bedroom. Loki closed his eyes as the flap fell back and Hlin sighed quietly,

“I could have gotten it your majesty.”

“He’s apt to be spoilt by the both of us if we don’t make him do some things for himself,” said Loki, enjoying the sensations of her fingers against his scalp too much to be overly worried. “I won’t let him be like Thor any more than I want him to be like me.”

Hlin’s fingers made their way to the base of Loki’s skull and she dug in hard, just as he liked it and he moaned quietly in pleasure. Hlin gave the best massages he had ever experienced and given the stresses of kingship and travel, she had been an absolute blessing for him as well as for the boys. This was what kept Loki going when he was close to giving up on the realm and the throne.

“Were you really so unhappy?” asked Hlin so quietly that if Loki chose to, he could ignore the question.

“I was raised as a prince, I had so much, but there was always a part of me that worried I wasn’t enough for my father, and that only grew worse as I got older. I don’t want Jörmungandr to ever doubt how much I love him, but at the same time, I fear if I indulge him as Thor was, he will be dangerous. You know his temper, I don’t want him to get himself into trouble like Thor did.”

Hlin murmured in understanding, “I hope I can help with that.”

“Hlin, you’ve been absolutely wonderful with the boys, don’t doubt my satisfaction with that,” said Loki around a sigh of delight as she worked out the knots in his neck. “How are you enjoying the book I gave you?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” she gushed in a hushed voice, “It’s so fascinating to learn about Jötunheim from someone who never knew them from the war, only before.”

Loki smiled, “And what have you learned?”

“Well, I read about the people we call Storm Giants –I can’t pronounce their native name –and why we call them such. I thought it was because they made storms, but that’s not it really. It’s because their typical colourings are the greys and blacks associated with storms, and they’re supposed to be so beautiful that they cause men to lose all reason, becoming as uncontrollable as a storm.”

“Hmmm, yes, they are a beautiful race, much more so than those we call the Frost Giants,” said Loki as he remembered the boys’ birth mother, Angrboda. Whatever else, she had been beautiful.  

“Oh, I don’t know your majesty, the book is full of pictures and I think some of the Frost Giants are very beautiful, although they aren’t really giants.”

Loki opened his eyes with a chuckle, “Oh no? Hlin, you did see Prince Byleist?”

Hlin coughed, “I, yes, my king. It’s just that the book says that because of their natural powers, Frost Giants are able to change size at will, but the bigger you are, the easier it is to survive in the natural ice of their land.”

“Really? That would have been nice to know when I had my servants running around adjusting everything for Byleist’s height,” muttered Loki. The book he had lent Hlin was an ancient text gifted to him by Queen Aetril back at the start of his reign, he had passed it on on a whim. Hlin was a very inquisitive creature and Loki enjoyed being a kind of informal tutor to her. When she had expressed interest in learning more about the boys’ Jötun heritage, he had passed the book on with a fleeting thought that he ought to read it himself at some point.

So far he had not found the time.

Hlin moved on to his shoulders and he groaned in appreciation.

“Magic fingers Hlin, that’s what you have.”

Hlin giggled and her thumb brushed the skin of his neck, sending a tingle down his spine, “Thank you my king.”

Loki smiled faintly, enjoying the peace and quiet of the tent. As Hlin worked out a knot in his shoulder, Loki drifted off into a kind of waking sleep, where his mind threw up images and dreams, but he was still aware of Hlin behind him. His thoughts brushed over memories of many nights just like this one, and he struggled to recall how he had spent his nights without the boys and Hlin in his life.

Loki turned his head and his nose brushed the inside of Hlin’s wrist, and he inhaled the scent of her skin as she gasped quietly. Sleepily nuzzling her wrist, Loki felt a bubbling warmth inside his lower belly and he reached up to link his fingers with hers. She smelled clean and faintly sweet, very different to the heady scent of-

Loki’s eyes popped open and he sat up straight, his heart racing as he looked up at Hlin who stared back at him, flushed and pretty. He stood and backed up quickly, his breathing loud in his ears as he coughed.

“Well, uh, thank you Hlin, for… for everything. I will see you in the morning.”

Hlin nodded, still staring at him with heavy lidded eyes. Her lips were pink and formed into a very slight pout and he wondered if they were as soft as they looked.

Loki fled into his bedroom and climbed into bed, ignoring the demanding weight between his legs as he tried to put all thought from his mind. He buried his face in his pillow and breathed slowly and deeply. As he did, his mind flashed back to Hlin’s scent and he tried to push it away, remembering instead Sigyn’s headier, slightly spicy scent. It was no good though, the memory of Hlin’s scent was too strong against Sigyn’s, which had been fading from his mind no matter how hard he tried to hold on to it.

It was this thought that quelled any physical reaction and he let out a miserable breath.

**~*~**

Sverrir took one look at Loki as he was feeding Fenrir the next morning and said, “Bad night?”

“Woeful,” Loki grunted, passing his hand over his hair in an attempt to make it presentable. “Do I really have to pretend to be a king today?”

“Well… yes, but let’s keep them waiting.” Sverrir shooed Loki into the private meeting room, sealed the room with magic and turned a shrewd eye on him, “So, what happened?”

Loki sighed, shifting Fenrir into one arm, and scrubbed at his face, “Hlin.”

Sverrir’s expression lost any humour it may have had and he dropped into the other chair with a thump. “Oh, this again.”

They were quiet for a moment, while Loki rubbed the back of his finger against his lips. Finally Sverrir said in a slow, strained,

“We’ve talked about this Loki, and you said-”

“I know what I said,” snapped Loki, “I know, but that doesn’t stop this feeling from growing. It’s as if the more I fight it, the worse it gets.”

“You need to stop indulging in it then, I already told you to stop being so familiar with her,” said Sverrir, dragging his fingers through his hair and making it stand on end. “She’s the boy’s nurse, not your companion.”

Loki’s whole body jerked and he shook his head, “I won’t give up those nights, I need them!”

“They’re making you worse! You realise this is the tenth time we’ve had this conversation –why do I bother giving you advice if you’ll ignore me?” asked Sverrir, throwing his hands up.

“You’re telling me to spend all day being a king and all night alone save for when I’m being a father. When do I get to just… not be those things?” Loki’s voice trailed off and he glanced down at Fenrir in his arms. The baby yawned and curled his fingers around one of Loki’s shirt laces, tugging with a jerk of his skinny arm. Across from him, Sverrir sighed and slouched in the chair.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I know if I reach out to Hlin…” Loki’s mind whirled with images and he shivered slightly with desire.

“What would that make her?” asked Sverrir, “There’s precedence for the king to have a mistress but somehow I don’t think that’s what you have in mind. Not to mention it would not exactly be beneficial to your politics.”

Loki shook his head, drawing in a deep breath. “I couldn’t do that. It would have to be all or nothing.”

“And you want all,” stated Sverrir without room for argument. Loki sank into his seat, his stomach was aching with guilt.

“I spent all of last night telling myself that one day I will find Sigyn, and in the mean time I just have to hold firm to the oaths I made. Yet… have you any idea how hard it is to keep those promises when you know you could just reach out and find everything you want with someone else?”

Sverrir did not reply at first, then said in a very careful voice, “Loki… how long are you willing to wait?”

Loki’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“Well… how long are you willing to wait for Sigyn to return? Are you prepared to… sacrifice yourself to that relationship?”

Loki narrowed his eyes, “I don’t like what you’re saying. Are you asking me when I’m going to accept that she’ll never come back?”

“Well, yes. It’s been almost four years and you –you are not coping.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I’m coping! I’ve ruled well, haven’t I? My son’s want for nothing, and-”

“Have you looked at yourself lately Loki? You’re so thin I was able to count your vertebrae that time we went swimming.”

“I’m busy –so what if I don’t eat, I’m not exactly going to die of starvation,” said Loki with a wave of his hand.

“That isn’t the point! You’re not looking after yourself –anyone who knows you well enough can see you’re stretching yourself, we all are with this trip, but you most of all. You’re… oh what’s the word for it? You don’t need to make every decision, or manage every decision for everything. Odin never did that-”

“Odin let rot grow in the workings of government that way!” Loki snapped, making Fenrir jump and let out a whimper. He set the baby on his shoulder and rubbed his back.

“But things are different now, you have a totally different government. It won’t happen like before if you take a step back.”

Loki shook his head, “No Sverrir, I won’t do that.”

“Loki! You can’t bury yourself in work to escape what you’re dealing with,” said Sverrir sternly. Loki stood up, glowering down at him,

“Meaning?”

Sverrir let out a heavy breath and said in as calm a tone as he could manage, “Meaning that you have to at least admit that there is a chance you’ll never-”

“Don’t you dare!” roared Loki and Fenrir wailed loudly before shifting into a puppy. “Now look what you did!”

“Loki, I just-”

“Just forget it Sverrir, I don’t understand why you keep trying to force me to give up on my wife, but I’ve had enough!”

“I’m not trying to but-”

“Because Sigyn is alive, and I will find her, do you understand me?” Loki growled, glaring down at him. Sverrir’s mouth opened and closed several times before he sighed.

“Yes, yes I understand.”

“Good!” Still fuming, Loki turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.  His head was spinning with rage and he could barely see as he made his way through the village to conduct the meetings. Sverrir wisely said nothing for the rest of the day, and Loki decided he had to do something about this situation before it got out of hand.

**~*~**

Loki waited until the night was as deep as could be before sitting up in bed. With a turn of his wrist, he cast a spell, watching as the seiðr gathered before him and condensed into a familiar, long-missed form. The illusion of Sigyn smiled at him with the love and warmth he ached for, and he wished he could touch her, but it was too draining to do that for a simple, pathetic, dream.

“Sigyn…” he breathed, drinking in her face.

“Loki,” she sighed, lying back on the bed and tucking her arm under her head.

“Where are you?” he asked, knowing her answer.

“I don’t know,” she said and he sighed, resting his hand on the bed as close to her as he could without disturbing the illusion. “Loki… don’t torture yourself tonight, you didn’t create me to grieve, let me do what you want me to do.”

Loki stared into her eyes, taken in by how life-like the illusion was, he had summoned this illusion before, when the guilt and grief grew too much for him, and each time she was more alive, more real. Yet never had the illusion spoken to him like this, usually she just said what he expected. He wondered if she was starting to gain some sentience, but she shook her head and said,

“All that’s happened is that you’ve put so much of yourself into me I can voice the thoughts you’re too ashamed to admit to.”

“And what am I ashamed of?” asked Loki, studying the freckles on her nose.

“You’ve summoned me eight times, each time you did it to help you pleasure yourself, but you never actually do it. In fact you haven’t touched yourself at all since we were last together.”

“It… it feels wrong. You’re not real, but you are my wife, and you did not give me permission to do this.”

“I am just a memory, how is this any different to using your memories in your head?”

Loki shrugged, “It just is.”

“Then send me away, like you always do.”

Loki hesitated. Then the illusion sat up and knelt before him, surprising him again.

“You need this,” she said as her hands came up to her shoulder straps, pushing them down her arms. “You know that or I would not be able to do this.”

His mouth went dry as he watched her ease the straps of her dress down her arms and the material slipped down to her waist. He wanted to lean forward and take her breast into his mouth, but he could not touch her, so he watched as she knelt up and slid the material over her hips, until she was naked before him. His eyes roamed over the swell of her breasts, the dip into her waist, and her inward navel, trailing to the neat trimmed hair between her legs. Then he leaned closer and reminded himself of all the details he still retained of her, the small freckles near her left nipple, the silver trail marking a long healed scar on her upper inner arm, the very slight crookedness of her smile.

“I miss you,” he murmured. Her smile turned slightly sad.

“I know. But I’m not here for you to weep over. I’m here to comfort you, so let me do that. You know I always get cross if you don’t let me look after you.”

A broken smile cut into Loki’s face, “Yes, you do.”

“So, just sit back and let me do what I’m here to do.”

So Loki sat back and opened his legs slightly as the illusion knelt up on the bed and her hands came up to caress her face, running her fingers through her hair with a soft sigh. With a wave of his hand, the light softened so it was as if she was glowing from the inside, becoming the only light source in the room. She closed her eyes and her fingertips brushed over her lips.

Loki swallowed against his dry mouth as his own hands rubbed over his thighs. He cast his mind back and tried to remember when he had last pressed his body against hers, licked away the sweat on her neck, felt her body surrounding him and heard her moans in his ear. It must have been at the start of his reign, only days into it… actually now that he thought about it, it must have been the second day of his reign, back when his biggest woes had been the war with Jötunheim and his heritage. It all seemed rather minor compared to what had come later.

Four years since he had had sex, or even taken himself in hand. That was probably the only reason he was feeling what he felt for Hlin.

The illusion was playing with her breasts, making soft little noises as she pinched and twisted her nipples and Loki groaned quietly, sliding a spit slicked hand into his underwear. The sensation of his own hand was almost a shock it had been so long, but Loki focused on the beautiful woman before him, aching to reach out and replace her hands with his own.

“I wish this was you,” she sighed, hands rubbing over her stomach, “I wish we were together right now, that you were kissing me, making your way down my body and between my –oh!”

Loki moaned, hand moving faster, “Oh, I would open you up and taste you until you were begging me for release.”

Sigyn moaned loudly, biting her lip and staring at him through hooded eyes, her hands undulating between her legs. “I’d beg for more, I’d beg you to fill me, to get me with child.”

“I’d do it, I would fill you, hold you, caress you, until we were completely spent,”

“Completely one!” she gasped.

“Yes!” Loki’s head fell back and he stroked frantically, imagining Sigyn under him, kissing him, running her hands over his skin, kissing Hlin –wait, what?

“Oh!”

Loki’s eyes popped open and he stared transfixed as Sigyn’s head fell back, her hips moving rhythmically, one hand buried in the long dirty blonde hair of Hlin, who had her face buried between Sigyn’s legs. Loki choked on his own breath as he watched Sigyn drag Hlin, petite and pert, into a deep, devouring kiss. Hlin giggled and squirmed in Sigyn’s lap and Loki’s hands moved frantically. The white hair of Sigyn brushed the straw yellow of Hlin as they stroked each other’s faces.

“My love,” Sigyn purred, turning her dark eyes on him, one hand on Hlin’s pale bum, “Do you want me to show her how it’s done?”

“Ngh, yes!” Loki gasped, biting hard on his lip as Sigyn toppled Hlin onto her back. Sigyn kissed Hlin, devouring her little pink mouth, fondling and squeezing small breasts. Hlin gasped and her eyes, hooded and dark, met Loki’s as she pushed up against Sigyn’s restraining hands.

“My king, Loki,” Hlin moaned, arching her back when Sigyn took her breast into her mouth.  Loki bucked, his head banging against the headboard as he dragged his gaze over the two women, one dark and curvy, the other pale and slim. He wanted to throw himself on top of them both, at this stage he would have settled for rutting against a backside or a thigh. He wanted the heat of their skin, the salt of their skin, the tang of their sex, he wanted, he needed, he ached with a hunger that set every nerve alight.

“Please, please,” he begged, feeling as close to despair as to climax. He wanted the illusions to be real, he wanted them, he wanted their touch, their love, he wanted Hlin to ride him and Sigyn to fill him, he wanted to be theirs, completely devoured by them both. Sigyn’s tongue delved between Hlin’s legs until Hlin was wailing and bucking against Sigyn and Loki’s back arched violently as he came hard into his hands. He slumped down onto the bed, panting, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt sleepy and his limbs relaxed. Smiling he opened his eyes and found the two illusions smiling at him coyly. “Beautiful…” he sighed.

As he waved the illusions and mess away, he thought he heard a scuffle. His head snapped around in a panic. The material door was fluttering slightly and his stomach jumped. Had someone come in and seen his illusions? He leapt out of bed and hurried to look into the main room. The room was empty and all was still.

“The wind…” he muttered to himself, backing up into his room and climbing back into bed. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, his sleepiness gone in the alarm that he might have been seen. Now that the illusions were gone, instead of feeling better, he found himself cold and wishing for a warm body to be pressed against his. He remembered the way Sigyn had rested her head on his shoulder, a hand rubbing over his chest as if to chase the lingering desire and settle it in his heart. He missed the way her hair tickled his jaw and chin, the way she nestled into the space of his side. Drifting away to sleep he lazily imagined having Sigyn on one side and Hlin on the other, and how warm he would be then.


	4. Tantrums and Respites

**Chapter 4 –Tantrums and Respites**

Despite his best efforts, Loki’s attempts to ease his own frustration had not done anything to stop him from noticing how Hlin’s hair caught the summer light the next day as she played with Fenrir and Jörmungandr the next day. Seated under a canopy, ostensibly having lunch with the jarl of the town, Loki found he only had eyes for the pretty woman making his sons laugh. She had pulled the bangs away from her face and the smile on her face showed off just how pretty she was. It was also very hard to put the memory of her naked body as he had imagined it out of his head.

“Majesty, don’t you agree?” asked the jarl, cutting through his muzzy thoughts.

“Hmmm?” he asked, barely able to tear his eyes away from the pleasant scene before him.

“I was just saying that, aside from a minor incident, your reign has been remarkably prosperous,” said the tall, broad man who reminded Loki very much of Volstagg, but without any of Volstagg’s easy-going nature.

“You call the Rebellion of Pigs a minor incident? I call it a serious culmination of corruption and outdated ideology of violence,” said Loki curtly. This jarl had spent most of the time with his lips against Loki’s backside since they had arrived. “And since I have begun my trip, I have found countless incidents of just such things still embedded in my realm so deeply it’s almost as if it were in the blood.” He fixed a sharp eye on the jarl, who blanched and shrugged in a faux-lazy gesture.

“Bad roots always grow amongst the good, but I know your majesty has been very busy pulling them out of the ground.”

“Yes, I am,” said Loki, not softening his gaze. The jarl’s expression tightened and he said quickly,

“Your boys are fine things.”

Loki looked around to see Jörmungandr trying to do a handstand for Hlin, who was clapping for him on the grass, Fenrir lying back against her stomach. Jörmungandr, skinny as a stick, gangly, but with a grace that brought to mind his serpentine form, was beaming up at her as he dropped onto the ground. Hlin ruffled his hair and then made Fenrir clap his small pale hands for his brother. The baby blinked hard, he was still little more than a physical new-born, but he seemed to enjoy the attention. Loki wished he could go and join them.

“And their nurse is quite comely,” continued the jarl, “Very pretty. I can see why you picked her.”

Loki’s head snapped around and he glared at the jarl, “I did not pick her for her looks!”

The jarl’s eyebrows jumped up and a smile spread across his face, “I see.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, his cheeks flushing as he reached out and grabbed the jarl by the front of his clothes, “No. You do not,” he hissed in the man’s face before throwing him back. The jarl slumped in his seat, looking frightened, as did the others at the table, who Loki only now remembered were there. Sverrir coughed at his left and said,

“Perhaps we should get on with the activities the jarl has so kindly planned for us?”

If Sverrir was using his slickest voice, then Loki was not doing well today.

“So… what’s the matter?” asked Sverrir quietly as they prepared for the hunt the jarl had organised.

“Not now -in fact, never,” muttered Loki, his cheeks flushing hot. Sverrir frowned slightly, studying his face.

“Is this about Hlin?”

“Sverrir! Drop it,” Loki growled, swinging himself onto his horse.

“Papa!”

Loki twisted in the saddle in time to say, “Don’t come up behind Sleipnir! He’s smart, but he’s still a horse.”

Jörmungandr obediently did a light dance away from Sleipnir’s four back legs and reached for Loki’s ankle. “Papa, can I go on the hunt? Please! Please!”

“Not today Jörmungandr, I want you to stay here with Hlin and Fenrir.”

“Why?” Jörmungandr whined. Loki reached down to ruffle his hair, but Jörmungandr ducked away, scowling up at him. Loki sighed as Hlin came over and tugged Jörmungandr away,

“Come little prince, we’ll amuse ourselves in the forest, won’t we?”

Jörmungandr grunted and stamped his foot, storming away. Loki watched him stomp off, his thin shoulders hunched around his ears and wondered if he should let him come along.

“He’ll be fine my king,” said Hlin gently, her hand touching his shin. Loki looked down at her and his stomach gave a faint flutter as he took in her big eyes, slightly parted pink lips and her breasts straining against her dress. It occurred to him that he could lean down and kiss her, and she would probably accept it with enthusiasm. He inhaled sharply and looked away.

“Yes, thank you,” he muttered, “I shall see you and the boys later.”

He kicked Sleipnir into a trot and refused to look back, even though he could feel her watching him.

**~*~**

How had it happened, Loki asked himself as he followed the jarl into the forest, his bow resting against his thigh and his quiver on his back. How had he let himself get so far? He thought back to the clumsy pass Hlin had made at him so long ago, and how awkward he had felt rebuffing her.

Hlin was just a girl.

 _She was old enough to feature in your fantasy last night_ , he reminded himself, scanning the area for their prey.

 _That’s different! I didn’t even mean for her to be there_.

_And yet she was. Besides, she’s not as young as she seems, after all, mother only takes on girls of a certain age._

_Still innocent, she deserves someone who isn’t in mourning for his wife, a wife who might not even be dead. And what would Sigyn do if she found out? She would probably never forgive me._

_Or she might understand, after all, she was the one who would say that we could take lovers in the future._

_Shared lovers! And with agreement from both of us. I can’t ask Sigyn’s permission, therefore I cannot break my promises._

_Sigyn understands the need for intimacy, she understands sex better than anyone._

_But I don’t want to just use Hlin. I care for her too much. I lo- I care for her._

Loki shook his head to clear it of his contradictory thoughts. It was all pointless. He would not take Hlin as a mistress –if for no other reason, his mother would skin him alive. It had been one of her worries about Hlin going with him and the boys on the trip. Loki had been rather insulted at her implications that he might now seduce Hlin for his own comfort, not helped by her worrying over his own vulnerability to Hlin’s infatuation. It had only been a few months since the rebellion, since he had lost Sigyn, so the idea had been intolerable. Now though, maybe his mother had had point.

There was a flash of blue and Loki looked to his left, drawing an arrow from his quiver and notching it. He caught a glimpse of blue feathers and squeezed Sleipnir’s sides with his legs. The horse stopped at once without a sound and Loki drew back his bowstring to his chin. He watched the movement of the feathers until he saw white among blue and released the arrow. It cut through the air and there was a squawk cut off almost at once as the arrow hit the giant bird in the chest, straight through the heart.

“Majesty!” cried the jarl in genuine astonishment, “Well shot!”

Loki shrugged and set his bow away again, kicking Sleipnir into a trot over to the dead bird. Half the height of a man, with brilliant blue feathers making it double the length, the bird was a fine beast, only found in this area of Asgard. Loki had struck an older male, which was good, he disliked killing the younger ones, it seemed unfair.

“Gather it up and take it back to the village,” ordered the jarl. “We’ll continue on, won’t we my king?”

Loki nodded and glanced back at Sverrir who was looking a little ill.

“Are you alright?” he asked his friend.

“Fine majesty,” Sverrir groaned, “I just don’t like hunting.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because I’m afraid of leaving you alone with that jarl,” Sverrir muttered. Loki huffed,

“I can control myself you know.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should have to put up with him on your own.” Sverrir grinned at him and Loki felt his lips curve into a smile.

“Come and have dinner with me, Hlin and the boys tonight. Bring your wife and children,” he said, reaching out and clapping him on the leg. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen them properly.”

Sverrir grinned and nodded, “I’m sure Ilmr will be thrilled.”

Loki gave him a dubious look and Sverrir blushed, “She doesn’t hate you like you think. She’s just frustrated that I’m so busy.”

“She’s not my biggest fan either,” said Loki.

“She thinks you give me too much hot air to inflate my head, you know she’s nervous of all this change. It makes her worry that there’ll be a huge backlash.”

Loki reached up and clasped Sverrir at the back of his neck, “I will not let anything happen to you or your family. You have been the one to keep me sane these past four years, more than anyone else. You will never know how grateful I am, my friend.”

Sverrir smiled gratefully and squeezed Loki’s arm. “I’m glad to do it my friend.”

Loki shifted in his saddle to bump brows with Sverrir, and as he did, he got the sense that someone was watching them. He looked around and found the jarl watching them with a disgusted expression. He tried to clear his face before Loki saw it, but Loki knew disgust when he saw it and he snorted, “Oh dear, someone thinks we’re being too intimate again.”

Sverrir giggled, “Maybe we should just kiss, as a double bluff.”

Loki shoved him away, “No thanks, your breath stinks.”

Sverrir yelped as he slid sideways, almost off his horse, but caught himself just in time. “You’re a mean man!”

“But a generous king, yes?”

“Yes, yes,” he sighed, reseating himself. “Come on, let’s see how many other animals we can kill today.”

**~*~**

Jörmungandr was still sulking when Loki came back, sitting on the ground and drawing in the dirt, his bottom lip sticking out. Hlin greeted Loki with a curtsey and a warm smile, a lock of hair falling from the knot she had pulled it into. Loki’s finger itched to push it away as she said,

“Prince Fenrir has been missing his father, and Prince Jörmungandr is determined to be angry with you.”

“Well I can take care of one problem right now,” he said taking Fenrir into his hands and kissing the small face three times before tucking Fenrir against his chest. “Mmm, did you miss me son?” he rumbled, nose pressed against the downy soft hair on top of Fenrir’s head. Fenrir’s nails scratched his skin as he opened and closed his little hands, legs kicking out, then relaxing. Loki could feel little bubbles of spit on his neck where Fenrir rested his face. He was still so small, and despite Eir repeatedly assuring him that the boys would eventually grow as normal children did, Loki worried that Fenrir would never become more than the helpless infant he was.

There was a tiny, selfish part of him that did not mind so much, it had given him time to enjoy being a father when he had waited so long.

There was a thump as Jörmungandr punched the mud mound he had made, squelching mud everywhere. Loki looked away, he could not indulge the misbehaviour, as much as he wanted to apologise for leaving Jörmungandr behind.

“We’re going to be having dinner with Sverrir and his family,” he said in a voice loud enough for Jörmungandr to hear him.

“I’ll set the table,” said Hlin with a dip of her head.

“No, no, the others can do that,” said Loki, waving a hand at the servants that were already filing in to do their work. “You’re not a maid Hlin, you’re the nurse of the princes, you don’t need to do everything yourself.”

Hlin smiled up at him, “I like being useful… I enjoy looking after you all.” She reached out to him and for a second Loki thought she was reaching for his face, “You’ve a feather stuck in your hair.” She pulled it out and showed it to him. Then she opened her fingers and blew the feather away, which made Loki chuckle as he watched the feather drift away.

When he glanced back Hlin was looking at him intently, without any blush in her cheeks. Her eyes were bright, almost burning, as she stared up into his face. It struck Loki just how much she had grown since he had first taken proper notice of her four years ago. She no longer looked like the timid girl who had peeped through the curtains of his bed in the healing room to check on him. The streak of confidence and boldness that had driven her to try to kiss him five years ago had grown with every passing year. No longer did Hlin try to hide behind her hair, instead she stood tall and held her head up, and wore whatever pleased her, not what was ‘acceptable’. Loki had noticed quite a few women copying her style, but it never worked for them. Hlin stood out now, and did not try to blend in at all. She was still soft spoken and gentle, curious and eager to please, but no longer did she shy away from anyone.

“My king?” she asked quietly, eyes widening slightly and Loki blinked, realising he had been staring. He reached up with his free hand and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. A faint blush finally crept into her cheeks and she licked her lips nervously.

“You’ve grown so much Hlin, make sure you never let anyone try to take that away from you,” he murmured. Hlin smiled with pleasure and she dropped her head shyly, only for her lips to catch on Loki’s thumb. Loki inhaled sharply and a tingle spread out from her touch. Hlin froze, her lips slightly parted against his thumb pad, eyes darkening as she stared up at him. For a single, long moment, Loki wanted her, consequences be damned, and he leaned in to replace his thumb with his own lips. His heart was hammering in his chest and he could hear the slightly ragged edge of Hlin’s breathing.

“I’m not sitting next to Áki.”

Both of them jumped and looked at Jörmungandr who pouted up at Loki and said petulantly, “He’s dumb!”

“Well with that attitude no one will want to sit with you either,” said Loki curtly. Jörmungandr blinked as if stunned and even Loki was surprised at himself.

“I’m a prince!” said Jörmungandr with a mulish expression.

“So what? It doesn’t mean anyone will like you,” said Loki sharply. “If you’re not kind to people, they won’t like you.”

“Everyone’s nice to you,”

“Only some are actually being nice. The rest are trying to win me over, but I’m old enough and experienced enough to tell the difference.”

Jörmungandr’s scowl shifted into something more confused, “What do they want?”

“Many things, mostly power,” said Loki, not sure if Jörmungandr had actually understood the original point. “Now, if you are rude to Áki or Rind, you won’t be given any dessert, do you understand?”

Jörmungandr scowled again, and nodded.

“Good, now go wash up,” said Loki, pointing at his muddy hands and clothes. Jörmungandr huffed and stomped off into his bedroom. “What do I do about him?” Loki asked himself aloud.

“My king, I think Jörmungandr will be happier once we get back to Idavoll,” said Hlin gently, taking Fenrir from him. “He’s tired of constant movement, that’s all. We’re nearly home again, and I’m sure he’ll be much more his happy self when we get back.”

Loki was not so sure. Jörmungandr was not exactly the sweet boy he had remembered for so long. He could be moody, secretive, jealous and temperamental. In short, he was too much like Loki and Loki had no idea what to do about it.

Sigyn would know, he thought to himself as Hlin went after Jörmungandr, she would know exactly how to handle him.

“My king?”

Loki looked around to see the jarl in the entrance bowing deeply to him.

“Yes?”

“I wished to invite you personally to a… performance tonight.”

“Tonight? I’m having dinner with my sons and my friends, I shall not be available.”

“It’s not an early event. In fact it is unusually late. Perhaps after your dinner?” The jarl’s lips pulled into a smirk, “I assure your majesty, it is a performance you will not soon forget.”

“Yes, yes, fine! If I am finished in time I will go,” said Loki impatiently as he heard Jörmungandr’s voice loud and sharp coming from his room. He did not even dismiss the jarl as he left him.

It turned out the upset was over Hlin’s choice of colours for him. She had picked the green tunic with gold highlights.

“I won’t wear it!” Jörmungandr shouted. “I want to wear my blue tunic!”

“But my prince, it’s your father’s colour,” said Hlin.

“Then he can wear it,” snapped Jörmungandr, throwing the tunic on the ground and stomping on it.

“JÖRMUNGANDR!” bellowed Loki, his voice so loud it was like a small explosion in the room. Jörmungandr jumped and stumbled back in shock, while Fenrir wailed and turned into a whimpering puppy in Hlin’s arms. “How dare you behave like this,” Loki growled, rage boiling in his blood. “How dare you act as if you have any right to be so ungrateful and rude? I’m ashamed to call you my son!”

A quivering silence fell over the room as Jörmungandr stared in fear at Loki and started to shake. Horrified, Loki turned on his heels and strode out of the tent before he lost any more control. He nearly knocked Dag over as he went, but he did not halt, nor did he pause when people called his name, he kept walking until he crossed the Ás-made boarder between the village and the forest. As soon as he was under the shadows of the trees, he drew his seiðr inward, gave a whole body shudder and transformed into a stallion. With his four legs he galloped through the forest, head down and unheeding where he was going.

Only when his long, sturdy legs felt like jelly did he stop, falling to his Aesir knees and curling up against a boulder, pressing his hands to his face. His heart hammered against his chest and he sat there shaking for a while, sucking in deep rattling breaths.

He would not have struck Jörmungandr, Loki knew he was not capable of that. Still, he had seen the fear in Jörmungandr’s eyes and he hated it. He had sworn he would never let his children fear him the way he had been afraid of Odin.

Maybe Frigga had been right, and he should have left the boys behind to be raised by her and Hlin while he attended to this inspection. Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, Loki shook his head. He would have been separated from the boys for two years if he had done that and he shuddered violently at the thought. No, his boys were to stay with him, even if one was being difficult. Still, it hurt to see his sons struggling with a life he had dragged them into. Jörmungandr had been so excited to be travelling with his papa, he had imagined great adventures like the ones Loki had told him about at night. Sadly, the mundaneness of courtly travel had worn that away quite quickly.

Loki had sworn that he would not make the mistakes Odin did, putting the throne above his children, yet was this not what he had done? Had he not put the throne before his sons’ needs? Jörmungandr needed a stable environment, and Fenrir needed security, he had spent half this trip in puppy form, which was a vast increase to what Loki had managed to coax him down to during the first year.

He ought to just forget about the last three villages and go home now. He was sick of this travelling, and he wanted to be back at home in his own rooms, in the familiar space of his childhood, where he could find all the items Sigyn had left behind and remind himself that she was not dead no matter how much it felt like she was when he was alone and miserable.

Loki flopped onto his back and stared up at the trees and the sky behind them. He was tired of feeling empty when he had so much, he was tired of dealing with such minutia as he had been, but most of all he was tired of listening to himself whine about it.

“But you’re so good at self-pity Loki,”

Loki closed his eyes with a sigh, “No.”

“Yes you are!”

“I mean, no. I am not doing this,” said Loki sitting up and facing the illusion of Thor who was sitting on the boulder above him. “I am not going to have an argument with a projection of my brother that is merely an extension of myself. I’m not doing it.”

“Why not?” asked Thor with a smirk.

“Because it’s been done to death in sagas, I don’t need it happening in real life,” said Loki waving his hand and dissolving the illusion before it could speak again, muttering to himself, “Need to get a better hold of my seiðr again. I will not become the mad sorcerer who talks to his illusions more than real people.” He tilted his head and sighed, “In which case talking to myself probably isn’t much of a step up.”

He lay back again and rested his hands on his stomach, listening to his own breathing. Despite knowing that he needed to go back, he could not make himself move. So he simply lay there, watching the clouds pass overhead.

It was the first time in a long time that he had been completely alone, he realised, running his fingers through the grass. Even in his bedchamber, it was still a tent, and Hlin and the boys weren’t far away. Now he could hear nothing but the breeze and the occasional twitter of birds. It was so relaxing, he wanted to sleep there, pretend he was out on a private adventure. However, he knew he could not stay and he rolled over to his knees, pushing up to his feet. He drew himself up and started walking through the forest. It was actually quite a walk back, and he only arrived in the middle of the night.

A tearful Jörmungandr was waiting for him with Hlin, he had refused any attempts to go to bed, and was shivering with a sleepy chill. His rasping voice was strangled by sobs as he apologised over and over again, and Loki shushed him, promising he would never leave him. Loki slept in Jörmungandr’s bed the rest of the night and as he lay there, he found himself looking over at Hlin’s bed, and thinking about how easy it would be to put out an arm and take her hand.   


	5. A Madman and a Lost Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, my computer needed an overhaul and I’ve been crazy busy lately. Sleep is badly needed.   
> Enjoy!

“It’s just as well you weren’t around last night,” said Sverrir lightly as he delivered the letters from Idavoll that Loki needed to read. “Turns out the jarl here was going to take you to one of those high-class brothels, you know with the dancers?”

“What? Hasn’t he heard what happened the last time a jarl did that? I’m pretty sure that place is still smoking from Mjölnir striking the roof with lightening when I lost my temper,” said Loki, flushing slightly. That had been an embarrassment. Sverrir grinned,

“Apparently not. When I mentioned it to him, he looked me up and down as if it were my fault,” said Sverrir with a shrug, “I wasn’t aware I was also your mistress my king, but if that’s part of the job now, well, I can always close my eyes and-”

“Yes alright, thank you Sverrir,” said Dag loudly as he sat down. “My king, My Lady The King’s Mother Frigga-”

“You’re evil for giving her that mouthful of a title,” muttered Sverrir, grunting when Loki smacked his shoulder hard.

“-she’s sent you a letter about Freyr,” said Dag wearily.

“Another one?” asked Loki in disbelief, “What’s he done now?”

“Gone mad? Or at least heading that way,” said Sverrir with a shrug as Loki picked up the letter, “Every letter he’s done something madder. He’s already been found ranting about his wife being a whore hiding in a brothel.”

“And there was that time he implied that I had seduced Gerd and secreted her away,” said Loki dully, rubbing at his brow in exasperation, “And this time he’s decided she’s run off with Prince Byleist and is a traitor and should be executed on sight.”

“You know your new laws about abusers?” asked Sverrir sweetly, “Can’t we put them to work on him?”

Dag shook his head, “We have no evidence.”

“Everyone knew what kind of way he treated that poor woman!”

“But until Gerd is found, or someone else who witnessed the abuse comes forward, we can’t do anything.”

“Could she have run off with Byleist?” asked Loki thoughtfully, “It’s certainly what Mýrkjartan thinks at the moment.”

“We still have no reason why she would be with him of all people, especially when he’s stolen the Casket.”

“That’s another thing, the Casket is a powerful weapon, but it hasn’t been used at all. Why not?” asked Dag, running his fingers through his golden hair. “From what I’ve heard the Casket can freeze an entire army, why not use it to intimidate, even destroy, us while he has the chance?”

“It’s too likely we’ll catch him and stop him, he’s alone here in Asgard, he’s probably waiting for the chance to travel home.” Loki’s hand slipped down to grasp Mjölnir’s handle, as she hung from his hip. Ever since he had acquired the hammer, he had been aware that it was probably the only thing in the Nine Realms powerful enough to do what he felt needed to be done.

“Hmmm, well, what if Gerd is with him? What will we do?” asked Sverrir sounding reluctant.

“I suppose it will depend on why she was with him. I can’t exactly pretend she didn’t aid an enemy of Asgard who had stolen a dangerous weapon.”

“Considering everything, hasn’t that woman suffered enough?”

“I don’t want to punish her, but I have to,” said Loki irritably. “In any case, mother wants my permission to confine Freyr into his house until he calms down.”

“Do you think it’s the best thing for him? Maybe a spell in the actual jail will be better,” Sverrir muttered.

“I know you don’t like him, neither do I, but we have to do what is just, not necessarily what is right –at least not yet. As soon as I get any evidence of his actions he’ll spend the rest of his days with a brand on his face,” said Loki viciously as he signed off on the request from his mother. “What next?” he asked Dag who handed over another letter.

“It’s from Reifer, his usual update, looks like your mother is handling things well, and Thundi is doing very well. He keeps asking Reifer when you and your sons will be back, he misses you.” Dag gave him an awkward smile and Loki sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I need to make a decision about him,” he murmured to himself, fingers resting against his mouth.

“I think Jörmungandr wouldn’t mind having another brother,” said Sverrir gently, “Thundi is your ward, that’s not a huge step from being a son, is it?”

Loki nodded, “I know, it’s just…” he trailed off and shook his head. Shame burned inside him, and he looked away from the two of them. He sensed Sverrir make a gesture to Dag and Dag gathered up his work and quietly disappeared. He heard Dag leave and then Sverrir’s hand rested on his upper arm.

“It’s not a crime to not love Thundi the way you love your sons. If it helps, I love my children more than yours.”

Loki choked on a laugh and he grinned at Sverrir through stinging eyes. “Thanks.”

Sverrir gave him a crooked grin, “You know I’m right.”

Loki nodded, “He’s all alone.”

“Guilt is not a good reason to bring him into your family. That isn’t fair to you, or Thundi. You need to know you can love him like a son, you of all people know that.” Sverrir rubbed Loki’s arm briefly, as if to ease any pain that his reminder had caused.

“He’s such a good boy, and it’s not as if I couldn’t, he already spends so much time with us when we are at home.”

“That’s not enough of a reason. You could give him everything in the Nine Realms, but if you cannot commit to him as a father the same way you commit to Jörmungandr and Fenrir, you should help him find a new family.”

“I should have done that before I left,” Loki muttered, rubbing at his chin in frustration.

“You placed him in the care of your mother and Reifer, they have both clearly been looking after him very well. You were under too much pressure to get the tour going and deal with everything, you couldn’t have helped him. Now, now you have a chance to really consider it.”

Loki sighed and pulled the tablet Dag had left behind with Reifer’s letter. With a few deft finger movements, he found a picture Reifer had included of a small blonde boy in blue shoes, hugging a fat white cat. The boy was about six now, and he was smiling up at Loki with a wistful, slightly sad edge to his eyes. Loki’s stomach clenched and he forced himself to drink in the bright face.

“What is it?” asked Sverrir when Loki stared at the picture for several minutes.

“He reminds me of Thor,” said Loki quietly.

“Is that bad?” asked Sverrir.

“Maybe, I don’t know. He’s so… bright and happy.”

“Ah,” said Sverrir as if that explained everything, and it must have, because he said, “You know, just because he looks like Thor, doesn’t mean he and Jörmungandr would have the same relationship that you and Thor had. And really, the relationship between you two was as much to do with your parents as yourselves. Thundi isn’t like Thor in his own way, and if you adopted him, you wouldn’t be making him crown prince, would you?”

“No, of course not! I mean, I’m not making either of the boys the crown prince, because there’s no way I’m letting that happen. I can’t just… they’re too young for that nonsense. Could I even make Thundi a prince if I adopted him? It was one thing with me, but… what’s the premise?” Loki spread his hands in frustration.

“I’m pretty sure it’s up to you,” said Sverrir with a shrug.

“If I adopt him, I want to give him a family, not a title,” said Loki irritably, his eyes still fixed on the picture.

“Well, we’re nearly home now, it’s probably a good time to come to a decision.”

Loki nodded, his stomach aching. “I wish I could ask her,” he murmured, “She would probably tell me to do it, but… it would be us together, not me on my own.”

“What would she say if she found out about Thundi?” asked Sverrir quietly. “Either way.”

“She’s met Thundi before, back when he was following me everywhere. She thought he was sweet. If she heard I had left him in this limbo she would be angry I think. I don’t know how she would feel if I brought him into our family, I’d like to think she would be as welcoming to him as she is to Jörmungandr and Fenrir.”

“But?”

“But I know she wants us to have children of our blood –she dreams about carrying our children, giving birth to them… you know how highly valued childbirth is to the Vanir. What if she felt I was trying to avoid having children with her?”

“Do you really think she would?”

“No… maybe… I’m not sure. She’s grown more focused on children we conceived together, it’s a bit of an obsession, even if we don’t talk about it I can see it in her eyes sometimes.”

“So? You want children with her, there’s nothing to stop you when you find her.”

Loki nodded, “Yes, that’s true. Still… would it be right to ask her to love another child not her own?”

“That, I think, is up to her, and without attempting to be cruel, she isn’t here, but Thundi is, and he needs a family.”

Loki touched the top of the picture and sighed, “I remember I was spending time with Jörmungandr, I was reading him a story and I looked up, and he was there, watching us from behind the door. I wanted to invite him to join us, but I… I couldn’t make myself say the words. The time was for Jörmungandr, no one else, at least that’s what I told myself. The truth was though… I was scared to let him in.”

“What are you afraid of? That you might love him or you might not?”

Loki started to shrug, then sighed, “Both?”

Sverrir patted his shoulder, “Just think about it, really think. It’s not something to do lightly.”

Loki nodded and stood up, clearing his throat, “In other news, what else is there to do today?”

“The usual, the packing, the farewells and then we head on to our final town.” Sverrir grinned, “We’re so close to Idavoll I can almost taste it.”

Chuckling, Loki stretched and said, “We’ve an hour before we leave, how about I hand you your backside in a bit of dagger work?”

“I would love to, but I can’t, I have to help with the packing,” Sverrir gave him a wry smirk and bowed himself out. Loki sighed and wandered out of the room. All around him, people were running around packing up the court and it was so familiar to them that it was almost automatic. Yet Loki could sense the exhaustion among the people, and he didn’t blame them. He had set an absolutely brutal pace from the beginning of the tour and had not let it ease for a day. His goal had been to get the tour done in half the time that it would have taken, to get it over and done with so that he could settle down with the boys and entrust more responsibility to his council. He had been confident that he could handle it, assuming he would be the one dealing with most of the difficulties, but he had failed to take into account that everyone he brought with him would be experiencing the same things.

The tour had begun with a general air of optimism, but that seemed to have died. Part of it, Loki knew, was because even if they had been accepting of the way Asgard had been, it was very different when confronted with it. It was one thing to think lowly of seiðr when the prime example of it was someone like Loki, an adult with great skill and power, but another when forced to witness the bruises on a small child whose parents had tried to beat the seiðr out of them. Sadly, most of the male seiðr carriers had suffered for their inborn talent and although Loki had personally dealt with the issue, he had not coddled his court. Only by seeing the damage complacency wrought would they understand why change was necessary. Still, it had been painful for the court and they were all shaken, even bruised by it.

They needed to go home, and so did Loki.

Jörmungandr was practising his letters with Hlin in the sun, Fenrir asleep in his carry-cot.

“Look papa, look what I drew!” Jörmungandr jumped onto Loki’s lap as soon as Loki sat down, nuzzling against his chest. “Look!”

Loki wrapped his arms around his skinny son and leaned forward to examine the drawing. On the bottom Jörmungandr had written ‘My Family’ in big, messy letters.

“What do we have here?” he asked, eyeing the figures pinned between blue and green, and pointing to the biggest figure, with a black and green body and yellow and black head. “Is that you?”

“No! That’s you,” said Jörmungandr, stabbing the picture with his finger. “And that’s me.” The multi-coloured figure next to the biggest, holding hands. “And that’s Fenrir.” Fenrir was a mass of black scribbles in a brown box, next to the Loki figure’s feet.

“And who’s that?” asked Loki, pointing at the figure holding Jörmungandr’s other hand, yellow haired and triangular shaped.

“Hlin!” said Jörmungandr as if it was obvious. Loki’s stomach dropped as Hlin gave him an embarrassed smile.

“Ah… it’s a good likeness,” Loki said, not sure what else he could say. “And who’s next to her?” There were three smaller figures, almost crammed into the background.

“That’s mama, and that’s Amma,” said Jörmungandr. He had prodded two figures as he said mama and Loki could see one was grey and black, while another was yellow haired, while Frigga had brown hair. Loki frowned and pulled the paper closer, examining it carefully.

“So, this one is mama?” he asked carefully, pointing at the grey figure.

“Yes.”

“Not this one?” he pointed at the yellow haired one.

“No, that’s mama too,” said Jörmungandr. Frowning, Loki glanced at Hlin, and to his surprise, she blushed and said,

“I’m going to get something to drink, excuse me.”

Loki waited until she was out of earshot and then said, “So, both of these are mama?”

“Yes, mama, and mama Sigyn,” said Jörmungandr with a nod, looking up at Loki as if his confusion was odd. “Isn’t that right? Don’t you like it?”

Loki stared at the tiny, rather pathetic, drawings of Angrboda, Sigyn and Frigga, dwarfed by the larger figures of Loki, Jörmungandr and Hlin. He sighed and kissed the top of Jörmungandr’s head.

“Yes, I love it,” he said. “But… is someone maybe missing?”

Jörmungandr frowned and examined the picture, then said with a shrug, “Wanted to put Thundi in, but Hlin said draw my family, and he’s not my brother. I forget sometimes, but then I remember.”

Loki arched an eyebrow and said in a careful voice, “You know Thundi, sometimes… sometimes a family is what you make of it. If I had learned that when I was your age I think… I think I’d have been better for it.”

“What’d you mean?”

“Sometimes a family is the people you love, but they don’t have to be related by blood.”

“Like Hlin?” asked Jörmungandr peering up at him. Loki forced himself to smile.

“Yes, like Hlin, or perhaps Thundi?”

“You mean Thundi’s really family?”

“Would you like that? Would you like him to be a… be your brother?”

“Would he share my room? And play with me whenever I want?”

“Well, yes, I suppose. Right now he’s closer to a servant, and if you want him to be a brother, you’d need to treat him like one.”

Jörmungandr’s face lit up, “So he’s really my brother?”

Loki swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry, “Would you want that?”

“Yes! He’s a better brother than Fenrir, he does stuff, not just eat and sleep and poop.”

Loki frowned, but decided not to take up with that comment.

“Well, it’s not certain, but it might happen and I want to be sure you’d like that. I’d have to give him the same attention I give you and Fenrir,” said Loki, not at all surprised when this statement made Jörmungandr’s shoulders tense. “But, it won’t be like this, because when we get back to the city, everything will be more stable. I can’t promise I will be available at every minute, after all, papa does have to do some work, but you’ll have regular lessons and be able to make friends with the children that live in the city –it won’t be like these last two years have been.”

“And will mama Sigyn be there?” asked Jörmungandr, sounding sulky.

“Well, I hope so, one day, but as I told you, she’s missing and I’m waiting for her to find her way home.”

Jörmungandr picked up a pencil and started scribbling on a piece of paper. He clearly wanted the subject closed. Loki wasn’t done, so he turned Jörmungandr to face him,

“Listen to me, I know it’s been really hard for you travelling around and I’m so busy, but I promise this is almost over. We’re leaving here today, and we’ve only three more cities,” he held up three fingers in front of Jörmungandr’s face, making sure he could see how few they were, “And then we’ll be back in Idavoll, and the new wing for us to live in will be ready for us, with Amma Frigga who can’t wait to have us back. But in the meantime, between now and when we get back to Idavoll, I need you to do something very, very important. Are you listening?”

Jörmungandr blinked up at him, his sulkiness fading a little. Loki held up a finger to emphasis his point, “I need you to really think about whether you want Thundi to be your brother. Because if I adopt him, which is what it’s called when you take someone into your family and love them as if they were your blood, there is no going back. It will be a bond between all of us, you, me, Fenrir and Thundi forever. And that means that I will treat him the same as you and Fenrir, I will not favour you over him, but that does not mean I will love you less. I will have to love you all equally, and treat you all equally. I need you to really think about whether you can accept that, because if you can’t I will find Thundi another family, and he won’t be your brother.”

“Can’t things be like before?” asked Jörmungandr, grabbing Loki’s finger and holding it.

“Right now Thundi has no mother, father or brother. He’s all alone, and that’s a very sad thing.”

“He’s got me, he’s not alone!” cried Jörmungandr.

“Well, he doesn’t have a family, and he should have one, shouldn’t he? Now, we can be that family, or we can help him find one, but we must decide before we get to the city. No,” he added quickly when Jörmungandr opened his mouth, “I want you to really think about it, and the day before we go into the city, I want you to come to me with your decision. This is a big boy decision Jörmungandr, you must make it wisely.”

Now very wide-eyed, Jörmungandr gave a solemn nod. Loki smiled and kissed his face. “I’m very proud of you, you’re a good boy.”

Jörmungandr was quiet the rest of the day, and Loki worried if he had burdened his son, who was still little more than a five year old, despite heading for his eighth (or thousand and thirtieth) birthday, with too great a concept. As they arrived at the third last city, Jörmungandr grabbed his hand,

“Papa?”

“Hmmm?”

“If you can a- adopt boys to be brothers… can you adopt girls to be mamas?”

Loki froze and looked down at his son, who was frowning thoughtfully as he said, “Can we adopt Hlin to be mama?”

Loki’s answer was cut off when the jarl of the city boomed out a greeting and he hoped Jörmungandr would forget the idea by tomorrow.


	6. The Last City

“It’s the last city! Last city! Last city!” sang Sverrir, as they sat down to go over the letters from Idavoll, “It’s the laaaaast city!”

“I think he’s excited,” said Dag flatly, handing over the tablet to Loki. “The report on the Bifröst repair. They’re finished with the structure, now it’s a matter of actually getting it to work.”

Loki read the report quickly, nodding in satisfaction, “They’ve still not begun work to tap into subspace, but that was always going to be the biggest issue, the Bifröst’s inner workings were largely forgotten, it’s been difficult to research them.”

“Last city, last city!” Sverrir continued to chant quietly, bouncing in his seat like a child.

“Heimdall’s been working with the seiðrmenn and seiðrkvennalið to reconstruct the process, although they’ll probably need your help,” said Dag, ignoring Sverrir completely and tapping the tablet to bring up another letter. “My Lady the King’s Mother Frigga wants to let you know that Queen Aetril is growing more and more anxious by the day, and wants you to meet with her to reassure her that we will send her home as soon as possible.”

Loki nodded, “I regret that she was trapped here with us, but at least she can be assured of her realm’s safety, her son is a good ruler. What about the old communication systems?”

“Last city! Last city!”

“It’s been tried many times, but the damage of the Bifröst’s destruction is still being felt in subspace,” said Dag, now eying Sverrir with irritation. “However, it’s expected that we will see an improvement, Heimdall reports that the convergence will occur at the end of this year and that the movements of the realms seems to be soothing the damage.”

“So it might be a few more months before we can send Queen Aetril home, or actually use the Bifröst.” Loki sighed and rubbed his face. It was infuriating to be so cut off from the Nine Realms, to not know what was going on outside his own realm. Even his throne, the great Hlidskialf, could not see beyond Asgard at the moment. Loki had to applaud Malekith and Hoder’s ingenious way to cripple Asgard, it had been annoyingly effective. “What else Dag?”

“A feast will be held for your return to Idavoll, the usual sort of thing-”

“Last city! Last city!”

“And you’ll have to imprison me for murder if Sverrir doesn’t SHUT UP!” Dag roared at Sverrir, who jumped, clamped his mouth shut, then burst into giggles.

“You’re too easy Dag!”

Dag groaned and rubbed his brow as Loki hid his grin behind his hand.

“When will I learn?” Dag muttered, “Finally, my king, I have a request of you for when we get back to the city.”

“Mmm?”

“Take a few months off.”

Loki arched an eyebrow and glanced at Sverrir, who held his hands up in innocence,

“I didn’t put him up to this!”  

Loki turned back to Dag and said, “Why?”

“Because if you lose any more weight I’m afraid your skin will split open against your bones,” said Dag bluntly, although he was blushing furiously. “Even Odin took time off, as did Bor. We’re all exhausted, and it’s summertime, why don’t you call a semi-holiday. Day to day things will run, but you won’t have any big gatherings, you won’t make any big changes, you’ll just… take it down a few steps. It’ll let things settle, you’ve thrown the whole realm up in the air, let’s just make sure we don’t push so hard it snaps back.”

“He’s not wrong,” said Sverrir, chewing on his thumbnail. “We’ve earned a break, and you know the court can run itself without you for a little while, at least with the day to day running.”

“You’re ganging up on me,” said Loki with faint amusement.

“Only because we love you!” cried Sverrir with a grin. “Come on, no one expects the king to be this invested all the time –in fact, you shouldn’t be because then they will expect it and you’ll work yourself to death.”

“Let’s avoid that, shall we?” asked Loki, repressing a shudder. “All right, when we get back to the city I want a full assessment and once we’ve done that, I’ll see how long I can give you.”

“Hurrah!” Sverrir raised his fists into the air.

“In the meantime it looks like everything is working well, what must we endure this final day?”

“The jarl has arranged an opera tonight, and a feast-” Dag began but Sverrir groaned loudly, drowning him out.

“Oh no! Not an opera! I can’t stand those things.”

“Well, too bad, you’re going. And watch yourself Sverrir,” said Loki, raising his eyebrows. Sverrir sighed,

“Yes my king. Sorry. Just a bit over excited.”

Loki nodded and read through the other reports sent on, while Sverrir and Dag muttered about issues that needed their attention.

“My school is doing well,” said Loki with satisfaction, “Looks like all the students have taken to the place, boarders and day students alike. Although it sounds like every teacher is doing their own method, which is causing a bit of confusion among the students.”

“Well, you probably need a head teacher, you never filled that post,” said Sverrir. Loki nodded, giving him an uncomfortable glance,

“I’d intended the role for your father, but… well, after he died I didn’t have the stomach.”

“I know,” said Sverrir as if repressing the urge to snap at him.

“I’d hoped one of the teachers would show themselves to be the best choice, a natural leader to emerge,” sighed Loki, scratching his chin. “Oh well.”

“Does your mother say anything about the new female squires?” asked Sverrir.

“No, but then again, I’m not surprised, my mother would not put up with any nonsense,” said Loki with a little grin. He had had quite a fun discussion with his mother before he had set off on this tour, where he had explained that he wanted to encourage the new form of warrior, where anyone could learn, regardless of birth or gender. Frigga’s expression had been a mixture of fierce determination and mischief. It had been one of the most enjoyable conversations he had had with his mother since before Thor’s coronation.

After dismissing Dag and Sverrir, Loki wandered down to the gardens where the children of the court were playing with their mothers, with Jörmungandr in the middle.

“Papa!” Jörmungandr cried, running to him and jumping into his arms with delight. It was the first smile Loki had seen on his face in days.

“We only saw each other at breakfast Jörmungandr, why are you hugging me like we haven’t seen each other for days?”

“Because I missed you!” said Jörmungandr as if that was all there was to it. Loki smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Well I missed you too,” he said, “What are you playing?”

“Grabber,” said Jörmungandr squirming out of Loki’s arms. “It’s fun, wanna play?”

“I think I’ll just watch,” said Loki, glad to see Jörmungandr playing with the other children again.

“Alright!” Jörmungandr ran back to his playmates who were in two lines on either side of the grass. There was a ball in the centre, and as Loki watched, it became clear that each child was paired with another on the other side according to number and when Hlin called the number, the children ran for the ball. Loki walked around to stand next to Hlin who smiled at him in welcome, Fenrir in his carrycot at her feet. Ilmr next to her gave him a nervous curtsey.

“They’re all excited today,” said Loki as the eight children laughed and cheered.

“I think they know they’re almost home,” said Ilmr with a slight smile.

“I think everyone shares their feelings,” said Loki primly, he could feel the warmth of Hlin’s body next to him and smell her hair she was so close. He should move away but he couldn’t make himself. “I can’t wait to get home. Are you coming to the opera tonight?”

“Yes, I’m making Sverrir go, despite all his protests.”

Loki grinned, “I must go, I have no choice, which is not something a king should have to say.”

“It’s supposed to be one of the most romantic operas we have,” said Ilmr, eying Loki knowingly. Loki’s smile slipped slightly and the now familiar frustration came back.

“All right children, last one and then lunch,” said Hlin, “Hmm… which shall I pick?” She teased the children by waving her finger from one to another, until Loki couldn’t take it anymore.

“All in!” he cried and the children all bolted for the ball. Loki caught Hlin by the waist and said, “You heard me, all in!” and he charged them both into the skirmish, despite a shriek of protest from Hlin. The children crowed and laughed and it turned into a wrestling match which Loki ended up at the bottom of, Hlin sprawled over his stomach.

“That was unfair my king!” she scolded, pushing herself up. Loki sat up indignantly,

“Unfair? I was the one who ended up at the bottom of the pile, not you my lady!” he gave her a cheeky grin and she shook her head.

“Well, lunchtime,” she said smartly, dusting herself off and herding the children away. Loki got to his feet and grinned after her. He thought he saw some of the women of the court smirking at each other, but when he looked they were deep in conversation following the children. A strange sense of mulish stubbornness bloomed in his chest and it stayed with him through lunch, after which he and Hlin took Fenrir on a walk through the vast gardens, the baby in Loki’s arms.

“Hmm, it’s so lovely here,” sighed Hlin, “Not quite as beautiful as My Lady The King’s Mother’s gardens but almost.”

Loki hummed in agreement, his attention on Fenrir snuffling against his neck.

“My king?”

“Hmm?” He turned to look at her, and was startled by the intensity of her gaze as she stared up at him.

“I wanted to thank you for bringing me with you on this trip,” said Hlin quietly. “I never thought I would get to see so much of Asgard, and while some of it has not been the nicest, there have been so many beautiful places.”

“I should thank you,” chuckled Loki, “I don’t know how the boys and I would have survived without you. In fact,” he reached out and caught her hand, pulling her closer. “Come with me tonight to the opera. Consider it my way of saying thank you.”

“Oh, I would love to! But, what about the boys?”

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” said Loki, squeezing slightly, “Say you’ll come with me, please don’t abandon me to Sverrir’s grumbling.”

Hlin giggled and then she beamed up at him, “Of course, I’d love to go with you.”

So, that evening, after two years of avoiding the topic completely, Loki finally had someone he liked to escort to one of the long evenings of food, music, dance and drink. Hlin wore a stunning purple dress that complimented his own formalwear perfectly. It reminded him of something, but he could not think what. Hlin was radiant as she chatted to Loki about everything and anything. It was one of the easiest nights he had had on the tour, even when he felt Sverrir watching him intently. It was hard to care when he was slipping past tipsy and Hlin kept making him laugh.

The opera was beautiful, a pageantry of music and colours, with a tale of lovers finding each other despite every obstacle thrown in their paths. As they watched, Hlin leaned against Loki and he responded by entwining their fingers on his knee. Later, as he led her in a dance, Loki held her close and inhaled the scent of her hair, sighing softly as he felt the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body. He had missed this, the feel of another’s body against his, the sense of safety and contentment brought about by sharing the moment with a wonderful person. Hlin’s hand was tight in his and her hand snuck from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good dancer Hlin,” he sighed in her ear. She shivered and her voice was warm and sweet,

“Thank you my king.”

“Loki, call me Loki,” he ordered, looking her in the face. Hlin’s lower lip disappeared between her teeth, and she smiled.

“Loki,” she murmured. The sound of it sent thrills through his body and he rested his brow against hers for a moment, smiling wistfully. Hlin’s hand tightened on his neck and tugged the hair caught between her fingers. Her breath smelled of sweet mint from a dessert, and her body was seeping warmth into his. Loki wanted to never let her go.

It was the early hours of the morning before they all stumbled to their rooms, Loki officially escorting Hlin there, but she might have been holding him up, who could say?

“Shush!” Hlin giggled as they all but fell in the door, “The boys are asleep next door.”

“Right!” crowed Loki, then covered his mouth, hissing, “Right. Well, good night Hlin.”

He let her go and took one step forward and one and half backwards. Hlin giggled and caught him about the waist.

“Loki you’re drunk!” she gasped as Loki put his arms around her.

“Not at all!”

“Yes you are,” she giggled, her arms strong around his waist. Loki lifted a lazy finger and tapped her nose,

“Do you kn –know what I am Hlin? I’m happy! I am honestly happy tonight. You said my name… do you know how long it’s been since a woman said my name?” He cupped her face in his hands and made her look at him, humming softly, “Mmm, sweet Hlin, kind Hlin, wonderful Hlin. You’re just so…” He trailed off, smiling at her. How she had matured in the years, how confident was her smile now, so attractive with a hint of clever mischief. It was so like-

Hlin’s lips touched Loki’s and he closed his eyes, tightening his grip on her. He moaned softly as her tongue brushed his lower lip and she pushed forward, parting his lips. Sparks of electric pleasure shot through him, how he had missed this. His hand came up and caught her hair, his other arm pulling her against him. She was soft and pliant, almost shaking in his grip. Yet as Loki broke away he became aware of the bend of his own neck, and the way his chin brushed the top of her head. She was too short.

Loki’s eyes widened slightly and he took a step back, feeling like the world had just tilted to the side. Hlin’s smile slipped and she reached for him.

“Loki?”

Loki stared at her, taking in the purple dress she was wearing and remembering how Sigyn had worn purple clothes the whole time she had last been in Asgard. Hlin’s hair, bleached palest blonde by the sun, was almost white, and her skin had darkened too by the sunlight.

It was not that she looked like Sigyn, not really, but there were so many things about her that were like Sigyn. Her smile, her colours, the way she sat and listened to Loki, talked to him and soothed his ills.

Loki turned abruptly and ran into his room, slamming the door behind him and dropping onto the bed.

“Loki!” called Hlin. Loki pulled a pillow over his head to block out the sound of her voice. What had he been doing? Hlin was knocking on his door, asking to talk, but he rolled onto his side and curled up, refusing to move until Hlin gave up and left.

It would have been so easy, he thought bitterly, imagining how he could have pulled Hlin to the bed, undressed her and climbed on top of her. It would have been easy to kiss her mouth, play with her nipples, bury his face between her thighs until she was breathless with need. He could have worked her open and ensured the pain was minimal, he had done it before with –with Sigyn.

Moaning as his traitorous cock began to stir, Loki remembered how he had carefully planned out the night where he would make love to Sigyn in full. He had used very tricky, careful spells to turn his bedchambers into a forest of trees, with flowers in bloom, the grass as soft as silk. He had set thousands of tiny lights floating through the air, and made the air smell like sweet blossoms. Indeed, he had done so much preparation that by the time she arrived he had become a ball of nerves, unable to relax and unable to rise to the occasion.

It had been humiliating and he had told her to go, to find someone else who could actually have sex like a normal man.

_“Don’t be stupid, I’ve put too much work into us to just walk away now.”_

Her voice echoed in his head as he recalled how she had become as irritated as him, reminding him that for all his anxiety, she was also nervous.

_“I’m breaking rules here, not you, I’m the one who has never had anything better than a toy inside me –I want a man! I want flesh and bone against me, inside me, but no matter how much I want it, I’m nervous too! Do you think it’s been easy for me to watch you struggle? Sometimes I want to tell you to just stop whinging like a brat and get on with it –but I don’t! I don’t because I want this to work, it’s not just a risky game for me anymore you idiot! I want you, Loki the fool who doesn’t know when to stop thinking, because I love you!”_

Loki’s hand snaked down between his legs and he ground against it, remembering that stupid fight they had. They had roared and screamed at each other, among the dainty seiðr he had spent hours weaving until something broke in Loki and he had thrown himself into her.

Slamming her into the wall, he had kissed her to prove he could, he had ripped at her dress to prove he was unafraid, dragged her trousers down and lifted her up, because he was strong, because he was not a fool, or weak, or anything other than a man who wanted this woman and no longer cared about the right time and place for the moment.

Sigyn had shredded his shirt with her fingers, then clung on with a delicious whimper as he breached her, finally, with his cock.

In the present, Loki rolled onto his front, grinding down into his hand, his whole body tense as a bowstring. He had hardly been gentle with Sigyn, he had all but pounded her into the wall, forcing pained yelps and moans of pleasure from her in equal measure. Her legs had wrapped around his waist, squeezing hard with her thighs.

 _“You’re infuriating! So damn patronising!”_ he had snarled against her cheek, hips jerking relentlessly against hers. _“Like you know everything about sex, like you understand it better than me. Always telling me how to feel and how to do it! Well, are you happy with your lessons now?”_

 _“Yes! More!”_ she had cried, pulling on his hair.

“You like this?” Loki hissed into the blanket between his teeth as he shoved down his trousers and grabbed himself.

 _“Yes! This is what I want,”_ she replied, a hitch in her breath as Loki lifted her knees over his elbows, bending her in half. _“I want this, I want you to need me, to be mad for me –I’m not your healer, I’m your lover. I want you to treat me like one!”_

“Like this!” Loki moaned as he gave a sharp twist of his hand around himself, remembering the way he had ground against her, inside her, making her cry out and arch away from the wall. Her hands had scrambled for purchase, trying to push down on him.

“More!”

Loki bit down on the blanket, his free hand gripping it the way he had gripped her hair. He could not breathe and he could see the tormented bliss on her face. In that moment, he had really come to understand the truth, that he loved her and would do anything for her. Before it had been about him, about moving past his experiences with Angrboda, and his focus had slipped from Sigyn. Yet in that moment, when he had left bruises on her skin and had not cared, when he had forced her open as much as he could and she had mewled for more, he had understood.

“I love you,” he growled, teeth catching in the blanket.

“Yes!” she moaned, clinging to him as best she could.

“I love you!”

“Yes!”

“I –ARRRRRrrghhh!”

It was a roar of rage and pain, trailing off into a strangled sob as Loki came in his hand and the realisation that he really had lost her, that she really was gone, finally hit him. He could not fight it anymore, he could not hold out against the reality that all the evidence pointed to Sigyn being dead. The desperate hope of a faint distortion that could be nothing more than a haze of rubble left behind was snuffed out.

Loki collapsed on the bed, sobs clawing their way out of his chest, his hand soiled with a pathetic mess, as the memory slipped away into a distant dream and he was left with nothing of Sigyn but the regrets of what he had not done.

**~*~**

Jötunheim’s weather had varied very little since the creation of the Casket of Ancient Winters, with the only difference being how much snow fell at any one time. It was all King Helblindi had ever known, he had been born years after the Casket, after the war, after his father was lost to grief. Laufey had been little more than a breeder for all his interactions with his living sons. Helblindi’s mother, Farbauti, had never even been crowned queen that honour had remained for Bergdís alone.

If her tomb were not in the heart of the temple, Helblindi would have seen it destroyed, Bergdís body thrown into a ravine somewhere to rot away or be devoured. The state of Jötunheim, broken and dying, was all down to her meddling with the innate magic of the realm, the magic of the people. If she had not forged the Casket, then Helblindi’s people would never have conquered the planet, but in turn, they would not be stuck in the situation they were now.

Helblindi stared out the window of his chambers, brooding over his father’s love struck stupidity and the evil witch who had destroyed a whole realm. Curse Vanaheim for spawning her!

Footsteps approached his chambers and his wife, Aino, called out,

“Husband, someone is here to see you.”

“I said I would see no one today,” growled Helblindi. He had cancelled his court for the day, his mood too dark to level true justice on his people.

“Husband, this is not one of our kind,” said Aino urgently, “They are from Vanaheim.”

Helblindi whirled around and stormed out of the chambers, “Say that again!”

Aino fixed him with her sharp, dark eyes, unimpressed with his temper and said, “A woman has arrived from Vanaheim, she says she wants to speak to you.”

Helblindi could hardly keep himself from running. If the woman was from Vanaheim, she might have word of his brother’s fate on Asgard. He had not heard from Byleist in years and had all but resigned himself to the fact that his little brother was probably dead. Still, if this woman could confirm it…

The woman was tiny to Helblindi, but he could tell little else about her, in fact, she was so heavily wrapped in furs that he would not have known her sex without being told. As Helblindi moved to sit in his throne, the woman swept a very elaborate curtsey and bowed her head.

“King Helblindi of Jötunheim, it is an honour to be in your presence.”

Her accent was heavy, but she was speaking in Helblindi’s tongue, not the All-speak Asgard favoured.

“I am he,” grunted Helblindi, trying to see a face in the heavy furs. “And you are?”

“I have come on behalf of my realm,” said the woman as she straightened up. “I represent the realm of Vanaheim. Ljúfvina is my name.” At last she pushed her huge hood back enough to reveal her face. Helblindi’s eyes settled on her short hair, it was a hue of red he thought was quite like his mother’s eyes.

“And why have you come –how have you come to Jötunheim? I heard no Bifröst.”

Ljúfvina smirked, “There are other ways to move through the realms than the Bifröst –especially now that it seems to have been destroyed.”

“Destroyed?” Helblindi had suspected as much, four years ago there had been a shower of huge shards of crystal still brimming with power.

“The paths leading to Asgard all show signs of trauma, only the Bifröst’s destruction would illicit such damage,” said the woman calmly. She did not seem even the slightest bit perturbed by the cold, or the fact that she was so small among so many giants. In fact she was as calm and blank as rock. It was annoyingly intriguing.

“Byleist,” murmured Aino, resting her hand on Helblindi’s arm in silent support.

“And why have you come?” asked Helblindi, giving no sign he had heard his wife.

“To make a proposal to you on behalf of my mistress, the queen. She believes that Jötunheim and Vanaheim have a mutual interest.”

“And that would be?” Helblindi growled.

Ljúfvina smirked and spread her gloved hands, “Why, we both want to knock Asgard off its pedestal it’s built atop us all, do we not?”

The words made Helblindi’s spine stiffen and he lifted his chin, “And who is your mistress, Vanir?”

The smirk grew and pride was flooding Ljúfvina’s voice as she said, “I serve my mistress, Sigyn, the Queen of Vanaheim, and she has an offer for you that will elevate us both and eclipse Asgard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a nightmare and has gone through multiple versions. In the first, Loki actually slept with Hlin, but it didn’t feel right and opened up too many paths that detracted from the main story. So I reduced it down to going about halfway, but again, this didn’t work –Loki did not respond well and Hlin’s character suffered. So that issue will now be put to rest, with the exception of tying up the ends. Loki’s feelings for Hlin were always about seeking a replacement for Sigyn while being deep in denial about his grief.   
> The last part in Jötunheim was originally five chapters later than this, but I decide with the changes I made to it, with Loki finally accepting his loss, this was a good place to put it.   
> Hope you enjoyed it!


	7. Follow the Paths Left Behind

The sun was so hot it was threatening to melt the various plastic objects in Thor’s bag, and his clothes were stained with so much sweat they would need another wringing soon. Pulling his cap and sunglasses tighter on his head and face, he set off down the street, searching for his quarry. He was relatively sure he would spot it easily once he was close enough, if he could manage to make his way through the huge swathes of people. Dr Banner had not exaggerated when he had said the land of India was heavily populated.

Thor’s bulk helped him cut through the ocean of bodies, but did not do much to help him remain inconspicuous. Everyone was turning to stare at him, from the small woman selling food from a cart, to the people known as Westerners, which Thor resembled so much more. He was used to it at this point, and in fact, the stares were not as overtly incredulous as they had been in other places on Midgard. Agra was more accustomed to tourists than other parts of the world were, so despite his strangeness and perhaps because of his size, no one bothered him overmuch.

The heat was so intense that Thor had to stop four times for water before he finally found his destination. The western entrance was pinkish-red, and already a huge queue had formed at it. Heaving a sigh, Thor took his place and watched as people milled around him. Guides shouted over heads, street children ran around the frazzled looking tourists, it was all chaos. A part of Thor, the part that was tired from so much travelling, hot and cranky, wanted to abandon this endeavour, but other parts of him, the parts he was trying very hard to nurture, wanted to stay.

Finally, thank the merciful Norns, he paid the high foreign rate for entrance and strode into one of the Wonders of Midgard, the Taj Mahal. What struck him was how green and wet this place seemed under the hot sun, and of course, the beautiful white building that stood right in the centre of the madness. It really was a beautiful building, dignified and seemingly simple, but as Thor walked towards it he could see the intricate details. Around him he could see people taking photographs of the building, seemingly pretending to hold the point of the dome in their hands. Humans were odd beings, they seemed to have a great love for optical illusions. Thor had seen them doing the same thing in Giza and Pisa.

Eventually, about halfway between the entrance and the tomb, Thor came to a stop and simply stared at the building for a few minutes. Then he took off his backpack and rummaged inside it for a moment, extracting the small, flat tablet that could have been a StarkPad, were it not from another planet. Thor switched on the screen and searched for what he was after. Finally, he found the picture he was after.

There was the Taj Mahal, and standing in front of it, were his brother Loki and Princess Sigyn. They had their arms around each other and were turned slightly to the tomb, their expressions dreamy and content. Thor stared at the photo and then looked around in fascination. Mortals changed so fast, and yet, the Taj Mahal had not changed since Loki and Sigyn had taken their picture, despite Thor’s research suggesting that, based on their clothing, the picture had been taken about three hundred years ago.

Thor flicked the picture aside and brought up another one, where Loki was sat down, Sigyn resting against his chest as if asleep, the Taj Mahal in the background. Another had Sigyn on Loki’s back, kissing his cheek, and another had them wrestling on the ground laughing. Thor had become used to the sheer volume of pictures that were in the tablet, Sigyn had obviously been an obsessive photographer. She seemed to have documented every moment she had ever spent on Midgard with Loki.

Thor lowered the tablet and stood there staring at the building, trying to imprint it on his vision, until the heat of the day drove him to go look for shade. He sat down and rummaged through his pack, pulling out a small notebook, which he opened to the first two pages where a list was written.

~~Tower of London, London, England.~~

~~Leaning Tower of Pisa, Pisa, Italy.~~

~~Stonehenge, Amesbury, England.~~

~~Giza Pyramids, Egypt.~~

~~Abu Simbel, Egypt.~~

~~Colosseum, Rome, Italy.~~

~~Angkor, Siem Reap, Cambodia.~~

~~Great Wall of China, China.~~

~~Acropolis, Athens, Greece.~~

~~Eiffel Tower, Paris, France.~~

~~Forbidden City, Beijing, China.~~

~~Chichén Itzá, Mexico .~~

~~Sultan Ahmed Mosque, Istanbul, Turkey.~~

~~Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, Turkey~~.

Taj Mahal, Agra, India.

~~Palace of Versailles, Paris, France.~~

~~Vatican, Rome, Italy.~~

~~Catacombs, Rome, Italy.~~

~~Al-hambra Palace, Granada, Spain.~~

~~Tara, Meath, Ireland.~~

~~Ephesus, Turkey.~~

Thor scratched off the Taj Mahal and let out a heavy sigh. It was the last one of his list. Nearly two years it had taken him to travel to every place that, with the help of his comrades in SHIELD, he had been able to identify in the pictures of Sigyn and Loki. There were many places that had been either unidentifiable or were lost to history, but the ones on Thor’s list he had paid a visit to as he travelled across Midgard.

It had been his own, personal quest, one he had undertaken in a kind of penance and homage. Leaving behind his friends, old and new, Thor, former prince of Asgard, had set out to travel the world of Midgard, attempting to follow the path set down by his brother and his brother’s wife. It had been very difficult to articulate what he wanted from this quest, only that he felt he must do it. Sif, Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun had wished to accompany him, but Thor could not let them. He had to do this alone, he had said. They had not taken it well, but accepted his decision.

Beginning in the United States, Thor had travelled at a comparatively slow pace, forcing himself to actually look around himself as he moved through this world that was his new home. It had taken the length of this trip to grieve, but as Thor sat in the shade, staring out at the glorious white tomb, he felt a measure of peace. Midgard was his home now, his punishment for bringing a terrible suffering upon a people who were already suffering, all in the name of his own wounded pride. As painful as it was to lose his family, his power, and his title, Thor had come to understand that his punishment was not the worst that could have been dealt to him. It had given him a chance to grow, to learn, which he would never have learned if he had been put in a cell. He could forget about what had once been expected of him, with a destiny set out before him and instead decide for himself what he wanted to do with his life.

Even after a whole year since he had come to terms with it, it was still a novel concept to think that he could do whatever he liked. As Jane had told him, he could study and become a doctor if he wanted to, or an engineer. Coulson had told him he could join SHIELD officially, rise through the ranks and perhaps look to a day when he would be working with Fury rather than under him. Captain Rogers had suggested that Thor should take his time deciding while he travelled, that he ought to try a few things and see what he liked.

One thing Thor had learned in his two years of travel was how to manage money. Officially he was still a part of SHIELD, which gave him a measure of extra protection, but he had taken leave from the organisation so he was no longer on their pay, which meant that, for the first time in his life, Thor had to actually consider his funds. The money Loki had sent to him was long gone by now, and SHIELD would not just provide him with travel and accommodation. So Thor had thrown himself into earning every bit of money he could for a year, doing anything SHIELD asked and even seeking extra work to amass enough money so he could undertake his travels. The art of budgeting had been a painful thing to master. Earning little and finding it not stretching far enough each time, Thor had learned to lower his standards.

Yawning, Thor sat back in the shade and stared out at the mausoleum for a while, then dug out another small book, this one about the history of it. He read about the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan and his love for his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal. It struck him as he read just how often he came across phrases about how many children a couple had actually survived to adulthood. Never having been one for children, that was more Loki’s domain, Thor had never really thought about becoming a father despite knowing he would eventually become one to continue the line. Yet the idea of losing a child, possibly all his children, because of common diseases was appalling. And so many women had died to deliver their children too! How did humans stand it? They were so fragile, so prone to dying when they already had such short lives to begin with.

Thor rubbed at his face and put the book away. He stood up and put his bag on his back, setting off again. He bought some Vada Pav from a street vendor and ate it as he walked, his eyes roaming over the heads of the crowd. He did not think he had been anywhere that was so packed with humanity, not even in China which he understood was the most populated place in the world. It was different there, there was less frenzied activity, the air was not so heady with spices and animals, certainly he had not seen a cow meander across a road in Beijing, he mused as he watched the creature plod alongside the traffic.

Idly Thor ran his hand over the side of the cow as it passed and the warmth of the coarse haired flank was something of a shock. Thor retracted his hand and glanced around, half wondering if he would be scolded. Tony Stark had warned him not to tease the cows, or he would be burned in a Hindi Temple. Dr Banner had told him to stop being racist and stupid. Thor had left the conversation unsure if he could touch the animals or not and had promptly forgotten about it. Since his arrival in India he had been fascinated by just how many cows there were in this country –nowhere else could he think of that had so many large animals wandering by.

For such revered animals Thor thought this one seemed very thin as he watched the cow he had patted nose at a pile of garbage. He dug into his bag again and pulled out an apple, which was looking a little bruised by now. He approached the cow and held out the apple, his hand petting the cow’s neck. The cow looked up with her big brown eyes and studied him carefully.

“Go on my friend, take it,” said Thor gently, holding the fruit to the cow’s nose so she could smell its sweetness. After a few more minutes, the cow bit down on the apple and gave a grunt of thanks as she chewed. “You know there are creatures very like you in my home too –different, but very alike. I never wondered why before, until my friend Jane asked why do my kind look so like humans. We are different, we are stronger, faster, but apparently it is very strange that we look so alike. When I told her that other peoples also look very like us, but that the Ljósálfar have wings, I thought she would fall over in shock. Apparently it does not make scientific sense for us all to be the same shape.”

It was the first time in two years that Thor had been able to speak of his own background, and it was nice to do so, even if it was to a cow that was more interested in his food than his voice.

“I never realised how… same Asgard was before,” he muttered, “Everyone speaks the same language, wears the same clothing, follows the same laws and believes the same things. I always thought that was a part of our strength, that we were all on the same path, the same goal. I’ve now travelled a world that is so much bigger and has so much variety and… I still believe that if everyone follows the same traditions and laws there is less internal conflict. This world is full of conflict and I’ve been in so many places where conflict has left devastation. There’s no honour and glory in these things, not the way I was taught battle should be.”

The cow had finished her apple, but continued to stare at Thor as if she was happy to let him talk. Thor sighed and stroked her big neck.

“Sometimes I think I ought to take up arms and charge into these places where fear and darkness are crushing innocent people and destroy them. Yet… I thought I was doing that before and I know better now.” Thor sighed, “I cannot understand the kind of rage that devout faith seems to instil in humans, my people don’t have that kind of belief system, in fact I don’t know if we ever did. Maybe when we were still considered Vanir, but that was a very, very long time ago, so long ago no one remembers it. Maybe it’s no different from the rage I felt for the Frost Giants, dead seated and built on sheer differences. I don’t know…” Thor sighed and idly traced patterns on the neck of the cow. “Forgive me my friend, I am feeling maudlin, but that is not your concern. It’s just that you remind me of my pets, although they are goats, and I miss them. I had to leave them in the care of a farmer back in America. I get regular messages and pictures –they seem very happy, but I’m not sure it was the best thing for my brother to send them to me. They were a birthday gift and I am grateful, but I have not been able to care for them the way they are used to.”

The cow blinked at him then turned away and started walking away. Startled by the abrupt departure, Thor felt slightly affronted, he had not finished his maudlin musing but then he reminded himself that it was a cow. Sighing, he set off again, pondering what he would do with himself now.

After a few more hours of wandering, heat and weariness drove Thor to his hotel, a small, cheap place that at least provided him with privacy. He stripped off and went into the shower, grateful to be able to wash off the sweat and dirt that was sticking to him. As he ran his hands over his torso, he frowned and looked down at his mismatched skin. The back of his hands were dark, his arms nearly as dark up to his elbows, where it began to lighten to his original colour to his chest. His legs and torso met a pale groin and backside –but that was not what held his attention. What he had noticed was how thin his body seemed to have become. He still had the defined muscles, but they were leaner, in fact his whole body was leaner. He had noted that his clothing had seemed a bit baggy, but had not thought much on it. Now he ran his hands over his stomach and his chest and conceded that he was definitely smaller than he had been. Why?

Thor tried to think about his diet, if perhaps he had not been eating enough, but he could not pretend he had been starving on his travels. He could still afford good food, so that was not the reason. Was it simply that he no longer trained as he had before? The extent of his exercise was walking long distances, and the occasional hard labour job he acquired for a few days to earn a bit more money. He no longer fought or sparred. Could that be it? He was losing his bulk because of his change of lifestyle?

It was a strange thought, like another bit of his old self was lost.

A swooping sickness filled him and he closed his eyes, forcing it down. His hands dropped away, and he sighed softly, his face turned up to the waterfall.

What now?

Clean and dry, Thor lay on his bed and took out the Vani-pad (as Stark had dubbed it). He toyed with it but did not turn it on. He had no reason to once again invade his brother’s privacy. And it was an invasion of privacy, no matter what anyone else tried to suggest. Sigyn had hidden these pictures and more on Midgard in a place that should have been safe, had SHIELD not possessed the clout to extract them. The more Thor had studied the contents the less he had liked himself for doing it. It was clash of burning curiosity and growing discomfort over the obviously private nature of the contents.

The only thing he could think of doing, after his rage at Loki’s betrayal and secrets had died away to something pitiful and mewling, was to try and follow his brother’s steps within Midgard. He had no idea what exactly he wanted from the trip, maybe an understanding of why Loki had kept coming back here with Sigyn, how this world had held them together. Maybe he had wanted to see things from Loki’s viewpoint.

Now that he was done, finally done, Thor felt very empty. He had been hoping that on completing his quest that he would have a better sense of what he was going to do with his life from now on. Yet he felt less certain than he had before.

Reaching into his bag, Thor pulled out his phone and dialled. After a few rings it was answered.

“Hi Thor.”

“Good evening Steve,” said Thor, then added, “Or should I say good morning?”

“It’s just gone noon, so afternoon will do,” said Steve, sounding amused. “How are you? Where are you?”

“I am in Agra in India, I came to see the Taj Mahal. It was the last on my list.”

“Wow! I’ve only seen it in pictures. Is it as amazing as it seems?”

“Yes, it is very beautiful –but hot.”

“You are drinking a lot of water, right?”

“Yes, I know I must now,” said Thor with a snort. “Although I seem to have lost weight.”

“Yeah, Sif said as much when you sent us that picture of you in front of the Sphinx, although it might just be because you’re not doing your old routine of training. You’re not bulking up anymore, you’re walking around –although you’re probably never going to be small. That’s a different work ethic, don’t worry about it so long as you eat well.”

“I’m not worried.”

“If you say so,” said Steve knowingly. Thor did not say anything to that, so Steve asked, “So, what are you going to do now?”

“I… I have no idea,” said Thor, lying back and tucking his hand under his head. “I thought I’d know when I came to the end of this journey but I still have nothing.”

“Hm,” said Steve and Thor heard him moving about.

“Have I interrupted anything?”

“No, I’m actually just trying to rearrange my apartment into something I like.”

“This is the fifth time you’ve done that, is it not?”

“Yeah,” sighed Steve. “So far nothing works. It still doesn’t feel like home.”

“Perhaps you ought to find a new home,” said Thor thoughtfully, “I heard Agent Barton saying you could afford more than you have.”

“I could…” said Steve reluctantly. “It’s just I picked this place because it was so like what I remember from… but maybe that’s why it doesn’t work.”

Thor pondered his reply for a moment, then said slowly, “When I went to Istanbul I found many great, beautiful buildings and I felt almost at home there just standing in some of these places. The Blue Mosque reminded me of the elaborate beauty of Asgard’s palace. For a wild moment I considered staying there and not completing my journey, but the next morning I decided it was just an illusion. I can’t get Asgard back, and I don’t think trying would help me move forward.”

Steve sighed down the phone, “You really should just stick to being straightforward Thor, at least with me. But you’re right, I can’t bring back what I’ve lost –and maybe in time I’ll be able to find a balance of style, but for now… I’ll see what’s in the papers.”

“Good idea,” said Thor, feeling slightly sheepish.

“So are you coming back to America?”

“I ought to… I don’t want to be any more neglectful of my friends than I already have been –how are they?”

“Well, you know they’ve all left SHIELD, except Sif, yeah? Well Hogun’s found work as a stunt double in a bunch of films –it’s perfect for him since he never has to speak, and apparently he’s loving it.”

Thor stared up at the ceiling, trying to imagine Hogun doing that and shook his head. He had been worried about his friends after he had heard that the Warrior’s Three had left SHIELD to pursue other interests. Sif was too stubborn to quit anything, even if she found it hard, it was not in her to give up. It was why she had become the warrior she was –had been? –no was!

“What of Fandral and Volstagg?”

“Well, Volstagg is now a professional ice cream taster –and a good one! Who knew that job paid so well,” said Steve with a laugh. Thor grinned,

“He must love it.”

“He does, and he brings around new flavours he’s helping the company invent. He’s hugely popular with SHIELD agents who’ve had bad days.”

Thor laughed, “I’m glad to hear it. And Fandral?”

“He’s working for some fancy fashion company as a personal shopper –he specialises in men’s clothing but is apparently quite the hit with the ladies too.”

Thor groaned, “I bet he is. Still, if he’s enjoying it.”

“I think he is. He was over here for dinner a few nights back and said that he was glad to be doing something so different from his last role. It’s easier to let go of the past this way I think,” Steve’s voice was sombre again. Thor’s smile slipped a little.

“He might have the right idea.”

“Yeah, well, if you do come back let them know –they ask after you all the time.”

Thor had asked that they not contact him unless it was urgent, his desire for them to find their way without him as equal a motivator as needing to break the bad habits they encouraged in him.

“I will, and even if I don’t return I will contact them. It’s been long enough, and I’m relieved that they are all well –Sif is also well I hope?”

“Well… yes and no. I think she’s still determined to hold on to the idea that you’ll all get home, the others have grieved the loss even if it hurts still, but Sif… Sif can’t seem to give it up –then again, I do get it in a way. She’s told me about how hard she worked to get where she was. I can understand and even respect her reluctance to give that up.”

Thor sighed, his old guilt rising up. “Perhaps if I can appeal to Heimdall for Loki to forgive her, she’ll go home.”

“I dunno, she doesn’t seem to know what she wants, she says she’s proud to stay here since it was in defence and honour of you, but at the same time… I can’t say she’s very happy.”

Thor did not know what to say to that. Finally he said, “It’s getting late, I should let you get back to your rearranging.”

“Yeah, ok, well, keep me posted Thor! Night!”

“Good afternoon.”

Thor hung up and rolled onto his side, feeling a miserable knot in his chest. In a way he had expected Loki to come down and rip him to pieces for his invasion of his privacy long ago. The lack of it suggested that Loki was no longer watching over him. The thought was chilling and left Thor feeling very alone.

“I miss you Loki,” he murmured to the pillow, “Do you miss me at all?”

Of course, he never got an answer, and in the sticky heat of India, Thor drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s probably obvious by my lame descriptions that I have never been to India before, but once I thought of the Taj Mahal as the last visit, I couldn’t change it, even if it might have made sense to describe a place I’ve actually see. Hopefully I wasn’t too far off, I did read up on visiting India and first-hand accounts and stuff.  
> And yes, Loki will be back, along with Frigga and Thundi, next chapter.


	8. Return to Idavoll

Three years ago Idavoll, the capital city of Asgard, had been a badly damaged mess. Blood had stained the streets, rubble and shattered glass everywhere, the remnants of the Bifröst scattered as far as the city outskirts. To the south had lain the Astronomy Institute’s remains, while to the west the mountains bore terrible scars from the Bifröst’s blast. Even as Loki had departed a year later the city had been a cracked reflection of itself.  

Now, as Loki returned, he found that much had been restored, though perhaps in a new way. The Bifröst had been reconstructed, but its shimmer was subtler and full of new colours. The observatory was not gold, but dark silver, reflecting the stars. Homes had been restored, and new stained glass windows lined the main streets, depicting hundreds of moments in Asgard’s history.

Likewise the people seemed changed as they came in droves to greet Loki. He noticed women wearing trousers and there were men who wore no armour, but fine silks and they carried book bags over their shoulders. As the king’s party travelled towards the palace, they passed the new public library Loki had commissioned, which shone as brilliantly as the Thorstaðr he had built in Thor’s honour. It seemed to be quite popular, as evidence by the market stalls that had sprung up around it.

“Welcome back your majesty!” cried a woman’s voice.

“Welcome back!”

“Welcome back little princes!”

Jörmungandr, sitting astride his own pony right behind Loki, looked around in surprise and gave a little wave. Loki grinned to himself as they turned a corner onto the processional street, which was the widest and most beautiful part of the city, leading straight to the palace. Most of the city seemed to have crammed itself into this street, waving and cheering to their king. Loki lifted a hand in greeting, smiling faintly as he looked to the palace and saw his mother standing at the huge doors, which were flung open to welcome him.

When he reached the foot of the stairs leading into the palace, Loki slipped off Sleipnir, helped Jörmungandr down from his pony, gave him his great helmet to hold and then strode up the steps to embrace his mother. Her touch seemed to flood him with warmth and he felt his shoulders relax. He was home.

**~*~**

Frigga’s first assessment of Loki was that he was far too thin. He had always been lean, but there was a new hollowness to his face that told her more about his mental state than any conversation would. He looked exhausted, as if he had spent many nights awake, and she thought she could see a grey hair or two in his sleek black locks. He hugged her so tight her corset dug into her skin.

“Mother,” he breathed, and the word made her think of all the times he had come to her as a boy, the word ‘Mama!’ falling from his lips as he crawled into her lap, looking for a hug. Frigga wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tight, then gently eased him away when he did not let go. She stroked his cheek affectionately, then looked at her grandson. Jörmungandr was hugging the helmet to his chest, the horns arching over his shoulders as he approached them. He also looked too thin for Frigga’s taste.

“Jörmungandr!” Frigga reached for him as Loki took the helmet and Jörmungandr hugged her with a slight hesitation. Frigga squeezed him as tight as she had Loki, sighing, “Oh I’ve missed you sweetling.”

“Amma,” Jörmungandr muttered, half affectionate, half shy. Frigga’s heart seemed to swell in her breast as she held him. How could she have ever let this boy go?

“You’ll have to tell me all about your adventures,” she said, releasing him and straightening up, touching Loki’s arm, “Both of you.”

“Amma Frigga?” asked Jörmungandr quietly, “Where’s Thundi?”

Frigga smiled and looked over her shoulder where Reifer was standing, his hand on the shoulder of a young blonde boy. Jörmungandr’s face lit up.

“Thundi!”

Thundi hesitated for a moment, then threw his arms out as Jörmungandr ran into him. Frigga pressed her hands together, smiling at the boys’ delight and looked at Loki who looked slightly strained and sad.

“Thundi! Guess what papa’s going to do,” said Jörmungandr excitedly.

“Later Jörmungandr!” called Loki. Jörmungandr spun around, nodding as Loki said, “Wait until this evening, when we’re all settled, alright?”

Frigga’s eyes widened slightly as she looked at Jörmungandr’s excited expression and the way he held Thundi’s hand, then at Loki’s face.

“Have you decided then?” she asked very quietly.

“Later mother,” muttered Loki as Hlin appeared at his side carrying Fenrir.

“My Lady,” she greeted, curtsying and presenting Fenrir to her. Frigga accepted the baby, beaming down at his chubby cheeks.

“Oh Fenrir, my beautiful boy, look at you!”

Fenrir gurgled and flexed his hands. Frigga looked up to praise Hlin’s care, but she saw a dark look pass between Hlin and Loki and they seemed to turn from each other. Frigga raised her eyebrow as Reifer stepped forward and knelt to Loki, hand on his heart.

“My king, I am so glad to see you back with us.”

Loki touched Reifer’s hair, then his shoulder, rising him to his feet.

“I am glad to be back, knowing you have cared for this city so well at my mother’s side Reifer,” he said in a clear, carrying voice. Reifer blushed and bowed his head gratefully. Frigga smiled at him.

“He’s been invaluable, all your jórsalafarar have.”

“I’m glad and grateful,” said Loki drawing Reifer closer and saying, “I want a meeting with you all in two hours.”

Reifer nodded with a smile, then grunted as Sverrir attempted to tackle him in glee. Frigga took Loki’s elbow and said,   

“Come inside, reclaim your home. Everything is ready.”

Loki smiled and nodded, reaching for Jörmungandr’s hand, which he gave, holding Thundi with the other. Loki paused and waved to the crowd. Then everyone bowed as the Royal Family swept into the palace.

“Come,” said Frigga again as the cheering from outside was muted, leading them towards the Eastern Wing. “They were finished two months ago.”

“That was fast,” said Loki.

“They were all eager to work, many of them were your thralls who want to repay your kindness,” said Frigga proudly. “Everything has been done exactly as you requested, down to the last details.”

“And my things?”

“Those that you placed in my care have not been touched,” said Frigga as they all entered the conveyor, Jörmungandr and Thundi whispering excitedly to each other. Hlin was ridged next to Frigga, and Loki was swaying slightly on his feet, though he did not seem to notice.

Still, when they walked out into the top floor, everyone seemed to forget themselves as they stared in astonishment at the change. Before they had left the conveyor had opened onto a corridor with two doors, one leading to Loki’s personal chambers, the other to his study-library. Now the corridor was gone in place of a room, spacious with a glass dome ceiling, a fireplace in the very centre, surrounded by fur rugs and comfy couches.

“Wow!!” Jörmungandr gasped, “This isn’t the same place as before!”

“Amazing what skilled builders can do,” said Frigga with a laugh as Jörmungandr ran to the huge window that over looked the city, exclaiming again in delight. “Thundi helped me pick the couches,” she added to Loki. Thundi blushed and ducked his head. Loki smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.

“Thank you Thundi.”

“Look at the books!” said Jörmungandr, now running over to where hundreds of books were resting in an ornate, iron bookshelf. “And the paintings!” He ran over to stare at the paintings hanging on the wall. Frigga had picked them from Loki’s very large collection that he had hidden in his old study. They were almost all from Midgard. “Why’s everything so different papa?”

“The way things were was not exactly ideal,” said Loki airily, walking towards a door. “You didn’t even have your own room.”

Jörmungandr gasped and flung himself at the door, which flew open with a bang.

“WOW!”

Frigga laughed even as Loki admonished Jörmungandr for his carelessness, following the two into the room. Loki had ordered that Jörmungandr’s bedroom be the best room a boy could have. It was full of light from the large windows and the skylights, and every wall had a mural of a warrior or a mage from a great epic. On the floor was a beautiful mosaic of the Nine Realms, floating among Yggdrasil’s branches. The bed was large and soft, and there was a box for toys at the foot of it. Jörmungandr ran around like a wild animal, hardly stopping to look at one thing before moving on to the next.

“Do you like it?” asked Loki tentatively.

“I love it!” Jörmungandr cried. “What’s through there?” He pointed at another door.

“Ah, that, I expect, is my bedroom, so you can come and find me if you need me,” said Loki as he walked to the door and opened it. He froze in the doorway as Jörmungandr pushed past him.   

“It’s all different!” said Jörmungandr excitedly. As she came up next to her son, Frigga could see the horrified expression forming before he covered it up. She reached out and touched his arm.

“Darling? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s wonderfully done,” he said shortly, taking Fenrir from her. Frigga’s arms felt empty but she did not object, seeing how tightly Loki held Fenrir. Instead she said,

“Shall we see the other rooms? That door leads to Fenrir’s room.”

Fenrir’s room had a gold and enamelled crib, with a small but lovely bed for Hlin or the other night nurse. A mobile hung above the crib, tinkling sweetly in the soft breeze. A special soft floor took up one corner for when Fenrir could crawl with countless stuffed animals. Loki crossed the room and laid Fenrir down in the crib, nudging the mobile to spin gently, which made Fenrir coo.

“So Fenrir is getting his own room?” Jörmungandr frowned as if he was unsure if he liked this idea.

“Yes, but he won’t be far,” said Frigga gently, “You can always have a sleepover whenever you want, right Loki?”

Loki nodded, but he still looked preoccupied, “Of course.”

They finished the tour of the new layout, which included Loki’s redone study and an extra bedroom which had been intended for Frigga so she could be closer to her family. Now Frigga expected that room might be used by someone else.

“Queen Aetril was not among the people greeting me,” said Loki as Hlin took the boys to Jörmungandr’s new room for further inspection. “Where is she?”

“She’s been unwell these past few days. I told her she could miss the greeting ceremony, I hoped you wouldn’t mind,” said Frigga carefully.

“Did you now?” asked Loki coolly, pacing around the new fireplace, his eyes flicking mistrustfully around the room.

“I believe she is depressed,” said Frigga bluntly. “She’s never been this long without her children and she has not felt her own people’s magic and presence for so long. Her usual charm has been missing for some time and she has withdrawn from public life.”

“Well then the only cure would be to send her home. How stand the Bifröst repairs?” Loki asked.

“Everything is ready, and the seiðr wielders are hoping that they can begin to tap into the subspace corridors soon, they are finally beginning to settle.”

“The last report suggested it would be another year. Why the sudden change?”

“They were being very cautious in their predictions, I think they were afraid of suggesting a time that would pass without result. So they erred on the side of caution.” Frigga looked at her son from the other side of the fireplace and reached out a hand. “Come and sit with me, my son.”

Loki hesitated then sank into the couch next to her, tense as a bow string. Frigga petted his hair and kissed his temple, relieved when he did not reject her. Their relationship had improved hugely during her recovery after the Rebellion, but there was still an underlying tension that she could not seem to dispel. It had seemed Loki was always watching her with suspicion, especially when she was near the boys. Despite what he might say, he clearly had not forgiven her for her role in the boys’ long exile. Then again, she mused to herself, she doubted if Loki had forgiven himself for that.

“You look so tired, my boy,” she sighed, taking in the dark circles under the eyes and the gaunt features.

“I’m starting to see why Odin needs the Odinsleep,” said Loki lightly. Frigga smiled ruefully, playing with his hair just so she could maintain contact. “How is your back?”

“Eir says I should be out of this back brace within the year, provided I do my exercises,” said Frigga. “Don’t try to distract me from my mothering, Loki, I want to talk about you. How are you?”

“Not now mother, I’ve only just arrived,” said Loki as he got quickly to his feet. “Boys!”

Jörmungandr and Thundi came out, Hlin trailing after them. Loki crouched down before them and said, “Jörmungandr why don’t you tell your grandmother and Thundi all about what you saw on your trip? I need to go and speak with Queen Aetril.”

“Yes papa!” Jörmungandr dragged Thundi over to sit with Frigga on the couch. Frigga smiled and put her arm around her skinny grandson.

“Come here sweetling and tell me everything!” she said, lifting Jörmungandr into her lap and pulling Thundi close.

**~*~**

Loki knocked once before walking into Queen Aetril’s chambers. He found the queen of Alfheim lying on her stomach on a couch, her wings wafting sleepily. The tiny queen was as pale and pretty as ever, yet her smile had lost the glimmer of seduction he remembered.

“Majesty!” she purred, starting to rise. Loki waved her down again,

“Please don’t get up, my mother said you aren’t well.”

“Merely homesick,” said Aetril softly.

“I can understand, but I hope Idavoll has not denied you any comforts that it could provide.”

“Truly, King Loki, you and your realm have been very kind to me,” said Aetril sitting up and leaning to the side.

“I simply wanted to check on you before something else came up to take my attention,” said Loki, folding his hands behind his back.

“I appreciate it,” said Aetril, her pale eyes now scrutinising him. She had dyed her hair again, when Loki had left it had been a chestnut red, now it was a cool blonde that matched her wings. “You look like a man who has been ground down to bare bone,” observed Aetril. Loki sighed,

“Alright, I get the message, I need to eat more.”

“Food is not necessarily what you need,” said Aetril. “There are many things a man may go hungry for.”

“I think I can guess what you mean by that,” he said with a faint smirk. Aetril smiled and rose to her feet,

“I mean anything and everything your majesty. However, that you went to that first and foremost speaks for itself.”

Loki laughed for the first time in days. In truth his libido had died along with his remaining hope about finding Sigyn alive again.

Aetril crossed the room to sit next to Loki, her wings fluttering as her shoulder brushed his.

“You’re troubled,” she stated. “Is there any way I can help?”

Loki shook his head ruefully, “Would that you could your majesty.”

Aetril smiled faintly and looked down for a moment, her hand reaching out and resting on his. Loki’s throat suddenly felt very tight and he curled his fingers around hers.

“How are your boys?” she asked.

“Good, very good. Jörmungandr is thrilled to be home, he missed his friend, and he loves his new room.”

“Ah! The rumours that flew about that renovation,” Aetril laughed, “I confess I was tempted to go and sneak a peek myself. Are you satisfied with them?”

Loki thought about his bedchamber, and his smile fell. “The work is remarkable.”

Queen Aetril gave him that look again, the one that made him feel as if she knew what he was thinking. Yet she did not say anything except,

“I am very glad to see you, your majesty.” And she kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin for a fraction longer than was strictly necessary. Loki leaned into it, warmth spreading through his face that was not embarrassment.

“I should go,” he sighed, wishing he could stay in the quiet, easy company of Aetril. She nodded, smiling as if she understood his thoughts.

“Of course. Welcome back King Loki,” she said, squeezing his hand as he stood up. Loki bent to kiss her hand and he left the room.

**~*~**

Loki met with his council to announce his intention to take a break from full ruling.

“It won’t be for long,” he said, feeling uneasy. “It can be as short as-”

“Forgive me my king, but you can take as long as you wish,” said Ragnalfr, Sverrir’s sister, who looked as if she wanted nothing more than to bundle him up and feed him. “Things ran well here while you were on your travels and now we have the whole council back together, we should be able to manage.”

Loki’s lips twitched and Sverrir quickly added,

“Not that you’re not needed!”

“I’m not a child Sverrir, I don’t need to be pandered to,” said Loki primly.

“I think we’ve made enough changes,” said Dag, twirling his pen in his hands. “Let’s give the people time to relax into them before we do more. The biggest changes are in process, so for now we can simply focus on the day to day running. We’ve no big events coming up except the Bifröst opening and after that we’ll probably be so busy that we won’t have time to relax. So why don’t you take until the Bifröst is ready to ease up on your duties. Your council can manage the minutiae of running the realm, and can come to you when needed.”

“You know nothing can be made into law without my authority,” said Loki, eying the fourteen men and women before him. Out of that number only three were sons of the previous council members, the rest were all people who had caught Loki’s eye by their beliefs and their ethics. Admittedly Ragnalfr was the daughter of a previous member, but being a woman meant that she was less of an overt replacement, and she was very vocal about the health care of the realm.

“Of course my king,” said Kalfr, an older man who had worked all his life in the Smith Guild. He had shaggy blonde hair and a big muscular body from his work making weapons for Asgard. “We would not presume to rule in your stead.”

“I’ll bring anything that needs to be dealt with by you personally,” said Sverrir.

“Good. Well, if that’s agreed then, I’d like to begin my break at once.”

They nodded and Loki stood. As he left the room he noticed Reifer following him.

“Yes?”

Reifer flushed a little and said, “I… I wanted to thank you my king, for trusting me with running the council after… after everything that came to light.”

Loki nodded, “Reifer, your father’s actions have not reflected on you, I told you that.”

“I know! But still,” Reifer shuffled his feet, a strange motion on such a big man. “I appreciate that you were so public in your support. I don’t think any other king would have been.”

Loki shrugged, “You showed me more loyalty than those who purported to be the loyalist men in Asgard. I don’t forget that.”

Reifer nodded, looking slightly distracted. Loki waited, watching him. Finally Reifer said in a rush,

“Thundi’s a good boy!”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Yes, I think so too.”

“We, well, I’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” said Reifer, looking very nervous.

“Yes, so your letters and my mother’s said.”

Reifer nodded hard, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“What is it Reifer?” asked Loki.

“I –my king I –I wanted to ask you for permission to –to…”

Loki laughed “You’re stuttering like a man about to ask for a woman’s hand in marriage –come on Reifer, out with it!”

“I want to adopt him!” Reifer burst out. Loki’s insides seemed to seize up as Reifer panted, as if the words had exhausted him. “I know I am not a married man, and I know my family is disgraced by what my father did, but I’ve spent two years with Thundi, watching him grow and worrying over him and –and I can’t bear the idea that someone else might have the privilege of raising him. I want to do it –I’ve wanted to do it for a year, but I didn’t want to put any pressure on the boy, he was still grieving so much for his family.”

Loki stared at him and could not decide what he felt. After all his worrying it seemed infuriating that Reifer had been willing to take Thundi on for so long. Yet he thought about Jörmungandr, who was so excited about gaining a new brother, and was loathed to disappoint him.

“Have you asked Thundi about this?”

“A month ago. He wants me to be his new father.” Reifer’s chest puffed up and his eyes were bright. He looked the way Sverrir did when he talked about his son and daughter, the way Loki felt when he thought about Jörmungandr and Fenrir. “I told him we needed your permission, you are his guardian after all.”

A bad one, thought Loki with a guilty knot in his stomach as a sense of relief began to spread throughout his chest.

“If Thundi wants it, and you are certain… I cannot think of any reason to object.”

“You’re sure?” asked Reifer, now eyeing him nervously, “I thought maybe, you yourself would want to-”

“I care about Thundi, a lot, and I did consider it, but it was out of a sense of obligation and the idea that Jörmungandr would love another brother. I worried I would not be able to love him as a father –not when I’m currently…” Loki trailed off, ashamed to admit the struggles he had with the sons he already had. “In any case, it’s about what’s best for Thundi and if you and he are both agreed on it –well, I would not stand in your way.”

Reifer beamed at him, “Thank you my king! Thank you!”

Loki nodded, but before he could say anything else Fulla, Frigga’s chief handmaid, came running up.

“My king! You need to come quickly. Prince Jörmungandr and Thundi are in a terrible fight and the queen and Hlin can’t calm them down.”

Loki’s heart stuttered and he broke into a run, Reifer behind him.

“What’s the fight about?” asked Reifer.

“I think I can guess,” said Loki as they all got into the conveyor and shot up to the highest floor. As the door opened Loki heard Jörmungandr screaming over Thundi, Frigga and Hlin.

“NO! NO! THAT’S NOT FAIR!!!”

“It would seem Thundi has explained to Jörmungandr what you just explained to me,” said Loki as he strode through the circular room and into the brand new bedroom where Frigga was holding Thundi close as Hlin struggled to hold Jörmungandr back. Jörmungandr’s face was darkening and his eyes were yellowing in a warning of his shifting into serpent form. Loki flicked his hand out and forced the form back, returning Jörmungandr to normal and making him stumble backwards. He blinked hard, then pointed at Thundi, shouting,

“You’re mine! My brother! You’re a liar –I hate you!”  

“That’s enough!” barked Loki, his voice overpowering his son’s. Silence fell, save for Fenrir crying in the next room. “Mother, you and Reifer take Thundi down to the kitchens for something sweet. Hlin see to Fenrir, and Jörmungandr you will stay right where you are.”

Everyone obeyed at once without a word. Loki did not move or speak until he was sure Thundi was well away. Jörmungandr was glaring at him, and before Loki could speak, Jörmungandr snarled,

“This is your fault!”

“My fault?”

Stamping his foot, Jörmungandr bellowed, “Thundi’s mine! He’s not supposed to be in Reifer’s family. You made him not like us, you left him behind.”

Loki swallowed as his own temper flared and he said in a forcefully calm voice,

“Jörmungandr you cannot lose your temper like that, what if you had turned into a serpent before I got here? You could have hurt someone.”

“Don’t care! You ruined it! I hate you!” Jörmungandr ran at Loki, tears streaming down his face, his hands bunched into fists. “You promised! You promised he’d be my brother! I hate you!”

Loki grabbed at the small fists beat against his legs. He turned Jörmungandr and wrapped his skinny arms around him, then pulled Jörmungandr against him, holding tight as Jörmungandr screamed his rage. Bolts of seiðr flickered at his fingertips, setting Loki’s hair on edge as he struggled to hold Jörmungandr still.

“Stop it, stop it now!” he ordered, every fibre of his being screaming at him to do anything to make Jörmungandr stop.

“No! I hate you! I hate yoooooouuuuuu!” Jörmungandr gave himself over to wordless screams of rage, his pale face turning puce with effort as he thrashed about, seiðr sparks firing in every direction. Loki closed his eyes and cast a protective bubble around them both as the sparks rebounded and merged, growing stronger and brighter. One of the windows shattered, the bedding was set alight and the beautiful mosaic was cracked before Loki gave up trying to restrain Jörmungandr with normal methods.  

“ENOUGH!”

Clenching his eyes shut, Loki released a jet of freezing ice from his body. It streaked across the room, freezing everything, including the fire and the seiðr on contact. Jörmungandr’s screams cut off to a squeak as he was distracted completely from his tantrum by the cold that had consumed him. Silence fell over the room, save for the creak of growing ice. Loki held on to Jörmungandr for another moment, then let him go and looked around. The room had been badly damaged by the tantrum and Loki’s temper roared.

“Get up!” he hissed at Jörmungandr, who stumbled to his feet, breathing heavily. “Look at this mess! Look at what you did!”

Shivering, Jörmungandr looked around, wide-eyed and plaintive as he turned to Loki, “Papa…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” snapped Loki. “You do not deserve this gift of a room that people made for you out of love, you do not deserve a brother like Thundi, you don’t deserve anything!”

Jörmungandr began to cry, reaching out for Loki, but Loki stepped back. He could not give in to the tears, he could not give in to the tantrum. He would not raise another Odin, another Thor.

“I’m sorry papa,” Jörmungandr whimpered.

“Sorry does not fix the mess you made, sorry does not excuse your behaviour. You were cruel Jörmungandr, don’t you understand that? You thought only of what you wanted, not what Thundi wanted. When he told you he was being adopted by Reifer, you should have been happy, because he would be happy. Instead you nearly attacked him as a serpent –you are no friend of his! And to say you hate me, do you have any idea how much that hurts me?”

Jörmungandr sobbed, his hands twisting at his shirt. Loki wanted to scoop him up and hold him tight. He backed away to resist the temptation.

“You will stay here for the rest of the night –you won’t attend the feast, and you won’t have any dessert. You will remain here and think about your actions, and how much they hurt the people around you.” Loki turned away and left the room, hearing Jörmungandr run after him, and closed the door between them.

“Papa!”

Loki covered his ears and hurried to the conveyor. He fell back against the wall of the moving conveyor and slid down, hugging his knees. He could still hear Jörmungandr calling for him, and hear him screaming ‘I hate you’ over and over and felt like screaming himself.

**~*~**

Frigga watched as Reifer rocked a sobbing Thundi in his arms, her heart aching as Reifer murmured reassuring words in Thundi’s ear.

“It’s all right, you’re safe.”

“B-but h-h-he was so mad! He was so mean!” Thundi hiccupped, staring up at Reifer desperately. Reifer nodded, petting his blonde hair.

“I know, I know my boy, but he was just upset. I think he was hoping you’d become brothers, and you know he does not like being disappointed.”

Frigga frowned but conceded the point. Jörmungandr did not like being told no, something Loki was not good at saying. Frigga had tried to warn him about it, but Loki would not listen to her and she had not entirely blamed him.

“He hates me,” Thundi sobbed as Ellie, his fat white cat, leapt into his lap. The cat had somehow survived the rebellion where Thundi’s family had not.

“He doesn’t hate you,” said Reifer firmly. “He’s disappointed, but he’ll get over it.”

Despite the situation, Frigga smiled to herself at Reifer’s demeanour. He was a worthy father for Thundi, and she was proud that he had overcome his shame over his father’s crimes.

The kitchen door opened and Fulla entered, looking slightly ill tempered.

“My queen, Hlin begs you come to Prince Jörmungandr. Apparently he is very upset and the king has disappeared.”

“What?” Frigga jumped to her feet, “What do you mean disappeared?”

Fulla shrugged, “I don’t know what exactly happened, but the king cannot be found and Prince Jörmungandr is beside himself with distress.”

Frigga could not believe Loki would just leave Jörmungandr but if he could not be found…

“Of course.”

Frigga strode back to the family wing and when she entered the central room she found Hlin pacing outside Jörmungandr’s bedroom. Frigga could hear her elder grandson sobbing on the other side. Hlin’s face was pale and blotchy as she turned to Frigga.

“My lady –please! The king has left the prince so distraught, and I heard him say the prince is to be confined to his room for the night, but he’s so upset-”

Frigga nodded, “I’m glad you called me, do you know where the king is?”

Hlin shook her head, “He just left, just like before.”

Frigga frowned, “Explain.”

“Whenever Jörmungandr has had a tantrum in the last while, the king loses his temper and shouts at the prince, then flees as if afraid of his own anger. He always comes back, but…” Hlin winced as Jörmungandr let out a particularly loud wail. Frigga kept her expression calm.

“I see.”

Without another word she strode into the room to find Jörmungandr had thrown himself on the floor and was sobbing into his arms. Sighing, Frigga thought back to the times she had walked in on Loki in the exact same stance, outraged at some sort of injustice done against him.

“Jörmungandr?”

Jörmungandr looked up, blotchy skinned and snot-covered, with his eyes swollen from crying.

“Amma?”

Frigga sat next to him and said gently, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Jörmungandr did not seem to remember that Frigga had been present when he had exploded at Thundi because he sat up and wiped at his dirty face with his sleeves and pouted, “Papa hates me.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” said Frigga in as gentle a tone as she could muster. “He loves you and your brother more than anything, and I know he tells you all the time.”

Jörmungandr looked taken aback and there was a slyness in his eyes that reminded Frigga that this was Loki’s son, he was undoubtedly just as clever. Loki had always been good at making himself sound like a victim as a child.

“Perhaps,” she said diplomatically, “Perhaps the word angry would be better. Your papa is angry with you.”

Jörmungandr flushed and wiped at his face again as he muttered, “Maybe.”

“Well, why do you think he’s angry?”

“’cause I got angry and said mean things to him and Thundi.”

“And why did you do that?”

Jörmungandr scowled and hissed between his teeth, “Thundi’s my brother –papa promised. Now he’s not gonna be, and it’s papa’s fault.”

“Why?”

“’cause we went away!” Jörmungandr slammed his fists down on the damaged floor and Frigga sighed.

“Do you really think you’re being fair? What about what Thundi wants? He loves Reifer and Reifer loves him, do you really think it would be fair to pull them apart? What if someone tried to take you from your papa? You wouldn’t like that, would you?”

Jörmungandr shook his head sullenly and curled up with a loud sniff,

“Papa’s gone away.”

“He’ll be back soon I’m sure,” said Frigga with conviction. “And when he does, what will you do?”

Jörmungandr shrugged, now picking at bits of broken mosaic. Frigga reached out and cupped his chin, making him look at her and repeated her question. Jörmungandr sighed and muttered,

“Say sorry?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. What else?”

Jörmungandr frowned up at her, “What’d you mean?”

“I mean, it might be nice to do something for your papa to show him you are sorry.”

“He yelled at me.”

“I know, and I’m sure he’s sorry about that. That’s why he went away, because he did not want to yell at you, but he was angry with you because you’ve hurt him, and Thundi and a lot of people with your anger.”

“Who?”

“Well, look at the mess you made,” said Frigga, pointing at the floor. “People who love you and your father as their prince and king worked very, very hard for you, to make this floor beautiful and you destroyed it in a single day. What if you made something special for someone and they broke it? How would you feel?”

“… bad.” Jörmungandr hung his head, looking less sulky and more sad.

“Didn’t this room look very beautiful when you first walked in?” asked Frigga gently. Jörmungandr nodded. “Now look at it, it’s broken,” she waved her hand at the broken window and the singed bedding.

“… ‘m sorry,” Jörmungandr muttered, sounding genuinely mournful at last.

“I know you are,” said Frigga softly, lifting him into her lap and summoning a handkerchief to clean his face. “Now, what can we do to show your father how sorry you are?”

Jörmungandr slumped against her, exhausted from his tantrum and Frigga started to run her fingers through his hair.

“Clean up?” asked Jörmungandr softly.

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Frigga encouragingly. “Why don’t you wash your face, then I’ll help you clean up.”

Jörmungandr nodded and Frigga stood them both up, going to the door as Jörmungandr went to his lavatory to wash. Hlin and Fulla turned towards her, Fulla rocking Fenrir while Hlin wiped her face. Frigga sighed and said, “Fulla, will you bring us some water.”

Fulla nodded and passed Fenrir to Hlin before disappearing. Frigga turned to Hlin and said,

“Now, what has happened between you and my son Hlin?”

Hlin flushed and muttered in much the same fashion as Jörmungandr, “Nothing my lady.”

“And is nothing the issue?”

Hlin flushed deeper, “I… we had a moment and I thought –but he stopped it. He rejected me.”

“Good,” said Frigga calmly. Hlin looked at her aghast, but Frigga was unmoved, “Hlin, I know you feel deeply for my son –you may even love him, but I was not worried about Loki’s behaviour on your travels, I was worried about yours. I don’t doubt your feelings, your kindness, or your sincerity, but Loki is vulnerable right now, vulnerable to feminine affection. He craves it and you are in a perfect position to offer it, but he is not in the right mind to take it. It will haunt him far more than it will haunt you.”

Hlin stared at her in disbelief, but Frigga had sworn while her son and grandsons were away that she would put her family before her position. So despite recognising that Loki was an adult and a father, she could not help but step up where she had failed before, because she could see in Loki’s face that he was struggling.

Fulla returned, carrying a tray with a plate of food and water.

“Hlin heard the king say the prince would not be attending the feast tonight, so I brought his dinner now,” she explained.

“Ah, you’re very kind Fulla, thank you,” said Frigga, taking the tray. She worried for a moment if this was perhaps undermining Loki’s authority as a father, but decided that as long as Jörmungandr remained in his room things would be all right.

Once her grandson was settled, Frigga would seek out her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally two chapters but this fic is already insanely long and I’m getting frustrated, so I’m trying to sort that out at the moment and combining chapters to try and shorten them up. Although I will say that now we’re back in the city I can start pushing forward with more speed.   
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and please bear with me as I’m really busy in RL atm when it comes to spotty updates.


	9. The Lost Little King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates, I needed to do some serious editing on these next few chapters, and make several tough choices about the story lines. Also, I’ve been absolutely insanely busy, and continue to be, so there may be a slow down on updates, but I will keep working on this project. It’s as much a test for myself to stick to sequels which I am not good at.   
> Enjoy!

The welcome back feast was less of a celebration than had been hoped. Word had spread about Prince Jörmungandr’s tantrum and subsequent punishment, and the king had barely spent any time at the feast. He had appeared for the food then disappeared, seemingly without speaking to anyone. Of course Sverrir knew an illusion when he saw one and so did Frigga. It was convincing, but as soon as it was out of the feast hall, it was gone.

Sverrir scoured the palace, checking everywhere he could think of but there was no sign of Loki. He returned to Frigga looked worried.

“He could have used that meal,” she muttered.

“I swear my lady, I did everything I could-” Sverrir started, but Frigga touched his arm and squeezed gently.

“I know you did Sverrir, you have been absolutely invaluable to Loki and to me ever since his reign began. Do not take more on your shoulders than necessary. Go on to your house, with your wife and your children. I don’t want to see you in this palace or around Loki for at least three days –you need a break as much as he does.”

Sverrir sighed and looked away, “I just want to be sure he’s all right. He’s struggling, especially with the boys. He hates to see them upset and he’s terrified of spoiling them. He never wants them out of his sight, but he can’t handle being around them all the time because it reminds him of what he missed. He loves them, but you know Loki, he likes doing what he wants and between the boys and the kingship he’s completely trapped.”

It felt good to admit these truths to someone like Frigga. The former queen nodded and ran her hand down his arm with a grateful smile,

“I’ll look after him, you go home with your family and look after them. I’ll send you a message when I find him.”

Reluctantly, Sverrir nodded and went home, where Ilmr was waiting up for him. She had changed into her nightgown and her hair was hanging down her back, ready for bed.  

“Did you find him?” she asked at once. Sverrir shook his head. “Then why are you back here?”

Sverrir winced at her sharp tone, and reached out, clasping her shoulders, “Ilmr, please.”

Ilmr glared up at him, “Don’t ‘please’ me! I understand your duties come first. Just don’t expect me to like it.”

“My family comes first, always!” snapped Sverrir, “I’m sorry there’s been so much upheaval lately, I know it’s been difficult.”

“Did you not like our lives when Odin was king? Were we not happy before?” she asked.

“I loved it –but that did not mean I was not frustrated by things, things I can now help to change.” He leaned forward and kissed her, relieved when she did not push him away. “I know I’ve been neglectful lately, but the court is on holiday, we’ll have time now to be together, and I’ll do whatever I have to to make it up to you.”

Ilmr prodded him with a sharp finger, “You can make it up to me by finding a better balance between the king and your family! I don’t want you to deny yourself the opportunities that you have, but I will not be forgotten for your ambition, and neither will I let our children be forgotten.”

Sverrir nodded and kissed her again. “I swear, I’ll try harder.”

Ilmr relaxed against him and kissed him, murmuring, “I’ve missed you, come to bed with me.”

Sverrir grinned as his wife pulled him along to their bedroom. The rest of the world might think of Ilmr as a shy, innocent woman, but with him she was his mistress and commander and he would do whatever she said.

His final thought of Loki before he resolutely put his friend out of his mind was that he was certain Loki would understand.

~*~

Loki’s hand was wet. It made sense considering he was trailing it through a small pool of water, stroking the silky liquid like a cat. It was a delicious sensation, one he was quite happy to revel in.

Closing his eyes he sighed softly, smiling as a hand carded through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

“Mmmmm…” he hummed sleepily, arching into the hand. A second hand massaged his chest, dipping into his shirt collar every third pass and making him sigh with pleasure. Opening his eyes he stared up into the pale eyes of Aetril as she smiled down at him through a haze. Her hand left his chest and caressed his face. Loki blinked up at her, feeling like he was drifting in a dream and he smiled up at her.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly.

“Good… you were right,” he murmured against her fingertips, “That stuff did the job.”

Aetril’s smile widened, “Good, I’m glad. Have you ever tried the sweetleaf before?”

“A few times, but it’s hard to come by, even for princes like me.” Loki nuzzled her fingers as she stroked his cheeks, then reached with his dry hand for the small pipe. He sucked in a deep puff of sweet smelling smoke, held his breath and then let it go as a sense of dreamy contentment rippled through him. He stretched luxuriously and resettled his head on Aetril’s lap, happy to sleep there. Aetril’s wings were wafting the smoke around the room and she sucked on the pipe, blowing a smoke ring above their heads. Chuckling, Loki lifted his hand and the ring shifted into a smoke dragon which flew above their heads alongside a smoke swan, a smoke bat, while a smoke chicken flapped futilely from the ground.

“Thank you,” he sighed, tucking one arm around her waist, “For this, I mean.”

“My pleasure,” said Aetril, now brushing her thumb over his brow, “You already look better. Now, why don’t you drift off to sleep? You could use it.”

“Mmm,” Loki rolled onto his side and lifted his head, “Do you know what else I could use?” He grinned at her and leaned in. Aetril chuckled and caught his head in her hands, holding him still.

“Ah, Loki, come to me sober and I will send you to the stars, but right now you need to lie down and go to sleep,” she said, giving him a light peck on the lips.

“All right,” Loki sighed, dropping onto his back again and closing his eyes. He was asleep in seconds.

~*~

Queen Aetril waited until she was sure Loki was dead to the world, then eased his head off her lap and left her rooms. It did not take her long to find Frigga, whose nose wrinkled very slightly as she came closer.

“Queen Aetril?”

“Are you looking for the king?” asked Aetril quietly.

Frigga nodded, “He was with you?”

“He came to my door like a lost child. Poor man was beyond speech, so I gave him a little sweetleaf to help him relax, he’s asleep now,” said Aetril with a smile. Frigga’s expression relaxed and Aetril felt endeared to the woman for her worry over her son.

“I see, well, thank you for your care. I’m sure I can have him brought to his chambers-”

“Nonsense, let him stay where he is –besides, the first thing he said under the influence of the sweetleaf was he could not sleep in the new chambers you built for him.”

Frigga sighed, “He should have been here when the building was done, it would not have been such a blow.”

“He’s had a hard few years, anyone can see that,” said Aetril, reaching for Frigga’s hand, “As have you my friend.”

Frigga gave her a bracing smile and shrugged, “You as well, lady queen. I wish we could even just make contact with your children.”

A bolt of pain cut through Aetril’s belly and she matched Frigga’s smile. “I do miss them, but I know my children will be ruling well in my stead, and I do not fear for the stability of my realm –although I do miss ruling sometimes. Being without any responsibilities does get so dull.”

Frigga laughed, “You really are not one for being idle, despite what you let people think of you.”

Aetril smirked and mockingly twirled some hair around a finger, “What do people think of me? That I am a simpering woman with no head for anything but pleasure?”

“Only the fools,” said Frigga with a shake of her head.

“Well, at least that’s enough to start with,” said Aetril, releasing her hair and fluttering her wings to give them a quick stretch. “I think I’ll go for a fly, let the king sleep on his own. Sweetleaf can… dim resolve, shall I say?”

Frigga narrowed her eyes, but did not say anything. Aetril’s smile widened in satisfaction. The other queen had never openly disagreed with Aetril’s open desire to take her youngest to bed, but Aetril knew she did not approve After many late night chats she had worked out for herself exactly what the issue was.

Aetril dipped her head and strode out to the gardens, seeking a patch of open sky. Spreading her wings, Aetril flexed them three times to charge her draíocht and lift her up into the air. Her wings beat hard in the windless night and she tilted to the side to start gliding towards the mountains behind the city. With several hard pulls she was soaring high above the city, with its neat and orderly streets and glittering lights. Idavoll was a beautiful city during the day and the night, but it was, understandably, very Asgardian in its style. The Aesir liked to stamp themselves into the land, rather than grow with it. It showed in the way the city was in a series of grids, it had not developed naturally like the cities of Alfheim. The streets were all straight lines and sharp corners, and Aetril missed the winding streets and secret paths of her realm.

It took her about half an hour to reach the mountains, right where the Bifröst explosion had blasted a hole in the side of it and caused a terrible avalanche and mudslide. Aetril liked to sit at the top of the wound and stare down at the glittering city. Living in Asgard was like living in a glass dome. It was so finite and small, was it any wonder that the Aesir thought they were the centre of the universe?

Of course, they knew intellectually that they were not, but culturally, emotionally, no. To the Aesir the universe existed to please them.

Things were different with Loki on the throne, he was well travelled as a scholar, and did not think the way Odin had. It was a relief to Aetril that she no longer had to worry about a surprise attack from Asgard just because Odin or Thor was bored, or trying to prove a point to their people. Loki recognised the benefits of cooperation, of shared unity, but he was having difficulty convincing his people. For the Aesir to accept the other realms as equals, they needed to see the value of their own different groups.

Aetril sighed, thinking of her own failures in that particular area, when the people who eventually became the Dökkálfar had first rebelled against her under Malekith. Malekith had been after power, but most of his followers had been seeking a better life than what Aetril had been able to provide for them, and it had spiralled out of her control. In the end she had been forced to expel Malekith and his followers and had been limited to doing damage control. Her failure still left a bitter taste in her mouth when she thought about it. Too much death and misery for both sides to be called anything but a disaster.

As her people’s lifespans were determined by how much draíocht they could absorb from Alfheim, the expectation had been that Malekith and his followers would die off within a few decades, unable to tap into the life source. Yet they had somehow found a different way to survive and maintain themselves. In truth, Aetril had been relieved when she had learned that, despite the longstanding conflict that had resulted. After meeting Prince Byleist and hearing of the long suffering of Jötunheim when Odin had done the same thing to them, she had been even more relieved. The idea that she might have unleashed that kind of suffering on a people had appalled her and her dislike of Odin had grown, as had her admiration for Loki. Loki did not seem interested in making the Jötun suffer anymore.

Snorting to herself, Aetril rubbed her palms together, charging a simmering ball of draíocht between them and rolling it in her palm. She smiled sadly as she remembered sitting with a white haired child, under a tree and showing her how to do this. Sigyn had been very small, no more than seven, when her parents had sent her to Alfheim to study seiðr from Aetril’s eldest. What Sigyn had not known was that she had been sent so far to protect her while Skadi and Njordr had dealt with a serious uprising in Vanaheim that wanted to destroy the royal family. Aetril wondered if the king and queen had ever told their daughter the truth about that. Somehow she doubted it. Skadi had never been a very communicative mother and Njordr did not trust anyone with his secrets.

The ball of draíocht floated up from her hand and drifted lazily around Aetril’s head as she allowed herself to wonder. Wonder where Vanaheim was, where Sigyn was right now, what her children were doing. Aetril knew that they were probably sitting down to lunch about now, she had spent many days calculating and recalculating the time differences between the realms. It helped her feel closer to the people she loved.

Sighing softly, Aetril swiped at her eyes when they stung with tears. The absence of her family, her friends and her home was like a gaping hole trying to swallow her up. It was a constant battle to stay above it, but Aetril hoped that with the return of Loki she would find that the Bifröst repairs would speed up, or at the very least, the king would provide her with some much needed diversions. What form such diversions would take was a mystery considering the state the king was in. Ever since the rebellion Aetril had watched, first from her sick bed as her wings slowly repaired themselves after being shredded, then later from a distance, as the boy Loki had been when he had come to the throne had faded away into a lean man of short patience and mean grudges.

Resentment burned in Loki like molten rock just waiting to erupt, but it was unclear where the resentment was directed. It seemed to be focused on everyone, but as Aetril observed him, the more she realised it was not individuals or groups the king resented, but the universe itself. It burned deep inside him, so deep Aetril doubted he was even truly aware of it. It ate at him and he had no idea what to do about it.                                                                                   

Aetril hoped to be well out of the way when he finally broke.

**~*~**

When Loki woke he felt better rested than he had in a long time. Stretching like a cat, he frowned when he realised he was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday. He normally wore only trousers to bed, so why…?

Loki opened his eyes, realising he was not in his chambers, this room had been altered to suit someone who liked to sleep outdoors. Groaning, he rubbed at his face and sat up, looking around as last came filtering back. Aetril… the sweetleaf… Jörmungandr… Loki moaned softly and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Ah! You’re awake.”

Aetril had been reading a book on a wooden beam in the roof. She tipped sideways and spread her wings, gliding down to stand by him. “Sleep well?”

A sense of shame and humiliation washed over Loki as he looked at the regal queen. He had made a fool of himself last night, coming to Aetril seeking comfort like a child, half hoping to fall into her bed without guilt or repercussions like a rutting youth, and exposing his weakness to a fellow monarch who could use it against him.

“Yes, very well,” he said, getting to his feet and trying to pull his dignity back together. “I thank you for your hospitality, your majesty.”

Aetril’s wings fluttered very slightly in amusement, “Of course, majesty, any time.”

Loki decided he needed to get out before he said more. “I shall see you soon I expect, dinner perhaps, with my mother and sons.”

“I would like that, I cannot wait to see how they’ve grown.”

Loki gave a strained smile and left as fast as he could without looking like he was fleeing. He strode through the palace, which seemed very quiet now that court was reduced to the basics. After the endless stream of people he had been dealing with for three years, he was glad to find himself relatively alone and among faces he recognised. He knew he had to go back and deal with his son, and probably with his mother too, but instead he found himself in Thor’s chambers.

Thor’s rooms were dark colours and furs, full of trophies and gifts, weapons on the walls and brilliant paintings glorifying war. There were also books, books on politics, on warfare, on philosophy. Loki ran his hand over the spines, thinking about how, once, Thor had liked to sit in here and read these books, back when he was younger and more interested in the mechanics of government. Loki wondered when that had slipped away, when had Thor started thinking strictly in terms of black and white.

“Sometimes I think our longevity is our greatest downfall.”

Loki turned to see his mother standing in the doorway. She looked tired, but there was no anger in her eyes, only grief as she entered the rooms. “I have not set foot in here since before the coronation.”

Loki looked away, his eyes roaming over the books, “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

“I suppose it was. We are not the people we were back then –you certainly are not.”

Loki could not interpret Frigga’s tone, and chose not to ask.

“What did you mean? About our longevity?”

Frigga sighed and sat in a chair by the large window. She picked up a blanket folded over the arm and pressing her face to it, no doubt it smelled like Thor. “We live so long that really it ought to be that we mature and grow and become better, but it’s not so simple. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched someone who was open minded grow more closed to new ideas the older they got, or simply refuse to give up ways of thinking. I remember you and Thor arguing as young men about the nature of government, do you remember?”

Loki shook his head.

“Thor believed that everyone should have an equal say back then, regardless of their background –he did!” she added when Loki gave her a look of disbelief. “Back then you were both fired up with enthusiasm about kingship and government. You sat together at the dinner table and argued with your father about how Asgard ought to be ruled.”

“I have no memory of this,” said Loki shortly, although there was a flicker of remembrance in the back of his mind.

“It was a long time ago, back when you were boys. Much has happened since then,” sighed Frigga as she set the blanket in her lap and balled it up in her hands. “Do you miss your brother?”

Loki folded his arms, and said in a measured voice, “I don’t know. Sometimes –but I don’t think about him much. I can’t keep an eye on him thanks to the Bifröst, and I’ve been rather busy, so-”

“He’s still your brother,” said Frigga firmly. “Thor never knew you were adopted, he still believes you and he share the same blood.”

“So what?” asked Loki curtly, “It does not change who he is. Doesn’t change that he’s a wilfully ignorant man who prefers smashing things with his hammer to actually thinking.”

“And perhaps you are someone who thinks too much and hesitates too long before acting and that results in equal trouble,” said Frigga, eyeing him with a look Loki did not like. “Hlin told me about your encounter with her.”

A cold chill spread down Loki’s back and he clenched his hand against the books. “I see.”

“I asked, I could tell something was wrong.”

“And are you now going to brag about how you were right and I was wrong?” asked Loki, refusing to look at her.

“I’m not against you Loki,” said Frigga softly.

“No, but you’re not on my side either –not the way you pretend to be.” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think. He heard his mother stand up.

“I have always been-”

“You’ve been on Odin’s side! Always Odin’s first!” Loki snarled, “Then you deign to attend to your sons.”

“That is not fair Loki!”

“Perhaps, but that does not make it untrue,” said Loki.

“And what about your sons?” asked Frigga, repressed fury straining her voice, “I spent all night comforting my grandson because you left him in a state of panic.”

Swallowing hard, Loki spoke as calmly as he could, “I regret that –but I will not allow him to become spoiled and hurtful.”

“So you’d rather behave the way you perceive your father and I have?” Frigga snapped, her voice sharp and loud in the room. Loki flinched as she said, “You should know now that it is not always easy to do what’s best or right by your children. People make mistakes-”

“You call forcing me to abandon my sons a mistake? I call it a disgusting travesty and I will never forgive myself for what happened, let alone forgive you!”

“You have to let this go eventually,” cried Frigga, grabbing his arm in a tight squeeze. “For your own sake –how long will you let yourself suffer for that? How long will you let it govern your parenting?”

Loki jerked his arm free, “Enough, I’m tired. Just leave me alone mother.”

There was a heavy silence while Frigga’s eyes bored into the side of Loki’s head, then she spoke in a soft voice, “Very well, I will leave you be.”

Loki did not move until she had left, then he sucked in a deep breath and sat down in the chair Frigga had just vacated. He balled the blanket in his hands and brought it to his nose, mimicking Frigga’s actions as he inhaled the faint scent left on the blanket. Instantly he remembered the last time he had hugged his brother, the night before Thor’s coronation. Thor had engulfed him in his huge arms and squeezed him so hard Loki thought his spine would pop. At the time he had been full of triumph and sneering smugness, looking forward to Thor making a fool of himself.

Loki sighed and spread the blanket over his knees, smoothing his hands over the wool. He knew he had to get up and deal with his son, but could not make himself move. He sat in Thor’s chair and stared blankly at his hands, unable to muster himself.

The door opened again and Loki grimaced.

“Back already mother?”

“King Loki?”

Loki looked around, just as a fat white cat gambled over and hopped into his lap.

“Thundi?”

Thundi was watching him with a curious look in his eyes, head tilted to the side. Loki swallowed and forced a smile on his face,

“Thundi, how are you feeling?”

“Fine –better,” said Thundi, edging closer. “Is Jörmungandr feeling better?”

Loki’s smile became realer and he chuckled, “You’re a kind boy Thundi. I would not be so forgiving if I were you.”

Thundi shrugged, “I’m not –I don’t like him being angry, he’s scary.”

Loki nodded, “I know, I’m sorry, he needs to learn to control his temper.” He brushed his fingers against Ellie’s soft white fur. The cat began to purr loudly, rubbing her head against his belly.

“Why is he so angry?” asked Thundi, resting his hand on the arm of the chair.

“I wish I knew,” said Loki.

“Is he angry with you?”

“Probably,” said Loki with a heavy sigh. He rubbed at Ellie’s belly gently and she purred louder.

“King Loki?”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

Loki looked at the young boy and smiled, “Thank you Thundi, and I’m sorry I wasn’t a better guardian for you.”

Thundi frowned, but did not contradict him, instead he said, “Thank you for saying Reifer can be my father. I really like him.”

A lump formed in Loki’s throat, “You’re very brave, Thundi, I hope you know that.”

Thundi rested his head on Loki’s shoulder. Finally, Loki sighed and straightened up, setting Ellie on her paws as he stood up. “Time to go.”

They left Thor’s rooms and Loki turned to Thundi with as a thought occured,

“How did you know I was here Thundi?”

Thundi pointed at his cat, “Ellie brought me here, she’s clever like that.”

Loki glanced down at the cat who blinked up at him with eyes that seemed a little more canny than he would have expected for a simple cat. Then he remembered that he had pushed a small bit of his seiðr into the cat when she was a rejected runt, to help her survive. Maybe he had overdone it a little –whoops.

“Well then! Make sure you look after her well, clever cats are good servants.”

“She’s not a servant, she’s my friend,” said Thundi as they made their way back to the conveyor. Loki sent Thundi on his way, then took the other conveyor and went up to his chambers. It was startling to see his chambers so altered and he knew he ought to have heeded Frigga’s advice about staying and watching the change. He had not realised just how much of his chambers had Sigyn’s imprint on them and it felt like she had been wiped from every corner. Even his own bedchambers lacked her presence. If he had stayed and monitored the changes he could have made sure she had stayed –He was such a fool!

It was like he had lost her all over again.

Jörmungandr was sitting with Hlin, curled up and looking tired. As Loki walked in, Jörmungandr leapt to his feet and ran to him,

“Papa!”

Loki bent and scooped Jörmungandr into his arms, holding him tight as Jörmungandr sniffled and clung to him, muttering, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Loki stroked his thick dark hair and carried Jörmungandr back to the couch where Hlin watched him with a pinched expression. Loki settled with Jörmungandr in his lap and waited for him to calm down before speaking,

“Jörmungandr I want to talk to you.”

Jörmungandr stiffened and he looked up reluctantly, eyes narrowing slightly as he wiped his face.

“What about?”

“I want to talk about you, and why you’re so angry with me.”

Jörmungandr stiffened and he narrowed his eyes to slits. “You know why!”

“I want you to tell me,” Loki said quietly, trying to keep himself calm. He did not want to have this conversation, but he could not avoid it any more. It felt like a conversation he should have had a long time ago. Jörmungandr shifted in Loki’s lap, and looked to Hlin for help, but Loki said quietly, “Hlin, will you leave us please?”

Hlin nodded and left, much to Jörmungandr’s obvious displeasure. Loki held him still until they were alone and then relaxed his grip. Jörmungandr folded his arms and huffed, his shoulders hunched in a sulk. Loki reached out a cautious hand and rubbed between his son’s skinny shoulder blades.

“Jörmungandr, talk to me,”

“Why? You won’t listen!” muttered Jörmungandr irritably.

“I will, I promise,” said Loki.

“No you won’t! You never do.”

“Well I will now, I want you to tell me what-”

“Why’d we have to go on that stupid trip?” Jörmungandr shouted, his head snapping around to glare at Loki. “I didn’t want to go! You made me!”

Loki’s lips thinned and he drew in a deep breath, “All right, let’s talk about the trip. I know it was hard, but I didn’t have a choice, I had to go on that tour. I had to make sure everyone in the realm was safe and well cared for-”

“So what?” growled Jörmungandr, “I don’t care about them.”

 _And I don’t want to care about them but I have to_ , was on the tip of Loki’s tongue to say, but he held back. It was honest, but he did not dare say it aloud. Instead he stroked Jörmungandr’s hair and pushed it behind his ear, thinking about how when he had been bitter and resentful, Sigyn had gently coaxed him to speak his mind, not allowing him to avoid the topic even as he spat and hissed at her. He in turn had badgered her relentlessly until she screamed her own angers and frustrations at him.

Something told him Sigyn’s method would be more effective.

“Jörmungandr, being a king means I have to look after everyone, whether I like it or not. I had to go but I’m sorry I did not make it more enjoyable for you, and that I wasn’t enough.”

“Why can’t Hlin be my mother?” asked Jörmungandr abruptly. Loki stilled his fingers and his mind flew back to that night, only days ago, when he had almost fallen into Hlin’s arms. It was hard to forget the pleasure and the relief that had washed over him as he kissed her.

“I- that’s not how it works Jörmungandr,” he said carefully.

“Why not? I like her more than some stupid princess I’ll never see,” muttered Jörmungandr, flinching slightly when Loki gave a start. The reaction cut through the fury at what his son had said, and left Loki chilled.

“Come here,” he called softly, pulling Jörmungandr close and wrapping his arms around him tight. “Don’t be afraid of me, please. Never be afraid of me.”

Jörmungandr whimpered and clung to him, murmuring, “I don’t like it when you yell.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to –I just, I don’t always know how else to react when you’re screaming like you did last night. You don’t like it when I yell, well, I don’t like it when you yell.”

Jörmungandr sniffled and his hand toyed with Loki’s collar, “I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I broke stuff.”

Loki relaxed slightly and he rested his hand on the back of his son’s head, “I know, I know you’re sorry. I’m sorry too.”

They sat for a while, Loki rocking his son, who was still so young and so fragile but who had the power to do so much damage in his body. Then Jörmungandr pulled away and squirmed to his feet.

“I fixed it papa, come and see.”

Loki took his son’s hand and they went into Jörmungandr’s bedroom. Jörmungandr hurried to the mosaic in the middle and pointed,

“Look! Amma Frigga helped me fix it.”

Loki rested his hands on his knees to examine the mosaic. The pieces had been put back in place, and carefully stuck back in with seiðr. Loki could sense a mix of Jörmungandr’s and Frigga’s woven together. It was cracked and imperfect, but there was an honesty about it that made Loki smile.

“That’s good work son.”

“And I helped Amma Frigga clean the bed!” Jörmungandr ran over to the bed where the singed materials were gone, and then pointed at the window, “And I’ll say sorry to the builders when I can leave the chambers.” He turned to Loki and pulled at his shirt hem. “I really am sorry Papa.”

Loki nodded, “I believe you, and I appreciate that. But what about Thundi?”

Jörmungandr’s expression darkened and he kicked at the floor with his bare foot. “What about him?”

“This was all about him and the fact that Reifer will be adopting him into his family, not ours.”

“So?”

Loki sighed and folded his arms, “Jörmungandr…”

Jörmungandr sighed, “Why does Reifer get him and not me?”

“He’s not a toy Jörmungandr, he’s a boy like you. How would you feel if someone tried to take you from me?”

“Like Gullveig?” asked Jörmungandr, eyes widening. “She took me and Fenrir away.”

“Exactly,” said Loki fighting down the memories. “I know you don’t remember it, but imagine you could? Imagine someone came to take you from me because they decided they’d rather have you than let you be with me? Would you want that?”

Jörmungandr scuffed at the floor with his foot, muttering a negative to the floor.

“You can still be his friend, but you need to think about what he wants too, and he wants to be Reifer’s son.”

“… I wanted a fun brother,” Jörmungandr muttered, twisting at his shirt.

“Believe me, fun brother’s aren’t all that great,” said Loki wryly.

“You liked your brother.”

“I love him, but there were times when I didn’t like him, but that is the nature of brothers. It’s up to you to make what you will of your relationship with Fenrir. I know it’s not fun when he’s just a baby and you didn’t get along with the children who came with us, but now you’re here you’ll be able to make friends with others.”

“Thundi hates me.”

“No he doesn’t, but he doesn’t like it when you yell. So why don’t we all try to avoid yelling?”

A faint smile crossed Jörmungandr’s face and he looked up at Loki, his eyes gleaming slightly. “No more yelling?”

“No more yelling,” agreed Loki. “But that means we have to find other ways to deal with our anger, doesn’t it?”

Jörmungandr sighed and nodded, “Now?”

“Well… let’s have some breakfast first, eh? We’ll talk tonight about it. In the meantime…” Loki cast his mind around for something they could do. “Why don’t I show you some archery?”

Jörmungandr’s face lit up.


	10. The Masked Woman

It took a few weeks, and a lot of yelling despite their agreement, but it seemed at last that Loki and Jörmungandr had come to a balance. Loki, relieved of the intense form of governing he had been performing, was less easily aggravated and had more time to actually give to his sons. He now gave Jörmungandr daily lessons in seiðr and sent him to join the other boys in combat training, although he was never far away in case Jörmungandr lost his temper.

Jörmungandr seemed much happier, especially once he and Thundi had made friends again. The formal adoption of Thundi by Reifer had been concluded two weeks after Reifer had asked Loki’s permission, and Reifer threw a party in his home, inviting the king and his son along with others, to celebrate. Jörmungandr had sulked at the start, but soon the fun and games of the other children swept him along and he had forgotten all about his mood.

Frigga had been cautious around Loki, never challenging his parental authority, but staying close so she could help him. Despite his anger at her and Odin, Loki missed his mother’s comfort, so he could not bring himself to refuse her. They had come to a mutual understanding where they spoke of light things, and discussed lesson plans for Jörmungandr. Loki asked his mother to become head of his seiðr school, at least until he could find a better alternative. Frigga seemed to revel in her new position, and she quickly filled their conversations with information about the students, young and old.

Then, two months after the king and court returned to Idavoll, Mýrkjartan arrived at the gates bringing with him two prisoners. Mýrkjartan led his horse into the city, with two more tethered to his, bearing a man and a woman in chains. The prisoners had a rather wild look about them, clad in basic clothing that had been repaired many times, and with hair that would probably break any brush that tried to tame it. The woman was curled up as best she could on the horse trying to hide her face with her hair, while the man sat tall and proud, staring down with contempt at the curious people gathering around him as they made their way to the palace. Bótólfr, commander of the einherjar, stood with a heavily armed retinue at the entrance.

“Commander,” greeted Mýrkjartan as he swung off his horse.

“Spymaster,” grunted Bótólfr with a suspicious look at the man. Bótólfr had never been able to trust Mýrkjartan the way the king did, he felt the strange man was too much of a loose cannon.

“Does the king wish to see the prisoners now, or later?”

“Now, and I assume you have the object?”

Mýrkjartan untacked a box from the horse’s saddle, tucking it under his arm. It was small and rather unassuming for something that held such great power. Bótólfr and Mýrkjartan shared a look of understanding and Mýrkjartan set off up the stairs while Bótólfr had his men bring the prisoners after ensuring they were indeed unarmed.

In the Throne Room, Loki was waiting for them, his helm gleaming, Gungnir resting in his hand and Mjölnir at his feet. Queen Aetril and Frigga were standing on the steps leading to it, with Sverrir and Dag on Loki’s right. Dag was eyeing the king’s wolves nervously, while the ravens soared overhead. The nobility and the public that had managed to get inside strained to see Mýrkjartan knelt before the throne and placed the box on the ground.

“My king, my search has ended in success, I have retrieved the Casket of Ancient Winters.”

He opened the box and a shimmering blue light emanated from it, making his pale face turn snow white. Loki waved a hand and the blue light disappeared, only for the Casket to appear again in his lap. Sverrir and Frigga started in alarm, but the king seemed unfazed by the Casket as he ran his hand over it.

“You have done well Mýrkjartan, you have earned a reward. Yet I hear that you have more than just the item stolen from me. You also have the thief.”

“Thieves, my king, there were two culprits that day.” Mýrkjartan stood up and turned to the door, where Bótólfr and his men were dragging the prisoners into the room. The woman seemed to have lost the ability to walk, while the man snarled at the einherjar pulling on his chains.

“MOTHER!” shrieked a voice and everyone looked around at a beautiful woman standing close to the throne, her hands at her face. “What have you done?”

The woman’s tear stained face turned to the younger lady and she sobbed harder.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t bear it anymore.”

“Enough,” said Loki in a carrying voice, “Bring the prisoners closer, so I may see them.”

The man was staring at Loki as if stunned, but the closer he came the deeper his scowl. They were forced to their knees in front of the king and Loki’s mouth quirked at the corner.

“I think we can dispense with the false images, don’t you Prince Byleist?”

The man sneered, then, before the shocked eyes of the people, he seemed to shoot upwards, his limbs elongating and his shoulders broadening. His skin darkened to a cobalt blue and horns burst from his brow. In seconds he knelt before Loki, a frost jötun once more.

“Good, now-” began Loki but Byleist cut across him with his deep, scrapping voice.

“You said all false images, didn’t you?”

“Yeeeesss,” said Loki slowly, raising an eyebrow. They stared at each other, unmoving, then Byleist looked at the woman, who trembled in fear.

“You heard him Gerd.”

Lady Gerd shook violently, “Please…” she whimpered.

“No more lies!” hissed Byleist, reaching out and grabbing her arm, ignoring the chains around his wrists. “Show them!”

Gerd whimpered as Loki snapped, “Lady Gerd is still my subject, you will not threaten her anymore!”

“I threaten her? Ha! It is you people who have threatened,” growled Byleist, shaking Gerd hard.

“What are you-?”

A scream cut across Loki’s voice as Lady Gerd’s skin started to change. It was shifting from the soft, pale gold of an Aesir to a muted heavy cloud grey, her hair, blonde and straight was curling up as silver threads shot through dark grey. She was growing, filling out, her eyes changing to silver white. All around the prisoners people were backing away as the einherjar raised their weapons. The clothes Gerd wore split at the seams and the shoes burst as her feet grew and grew.

Finally, like Byleist before her, Lady Gerd knelt before Loki, not as an Aesir woman, but a Storm Giant of Jotunheim. The crowd burst into panic and shouts, while Loki sat frozen in shock as he stared a woman who could have been Angrboda’s sister.

“If she’s a giant her children are too!” shouted someone and the next thing Loki knew Gerd’s children by Freyr, who was still under house arrest, were dragged and shoved out of the crowd by their clothes, their hair, whatever part could be reached. Frída was thrown out by her own husband, who did not seem to care that she was heavily pregnant. Soon Gerd’s five children were huddled together in terror, bewildered and horrified as they looked at each other. People were drawing their weapons and shouting incomprehensible things, working themselves into a frenzy. 

Queen Aetril turned to look at Loki and the appalled shock in her eyes made him rise to his feet, the Casket in one hand.

“ENOUGH!”

The order cut through the panic and silenced the masses. Soon the only sound was the quiet sobbing of Gerd and her children.

“Obviously there are questions that need answering,” said Loki coldly, “But that does not excuse anyone here to descend into madness! I will not allow my court to descend into xenophobic chaos at the slightest thing. Now all of you put down your weapons!”

No one dared disobey, not when the king was so angry the Casket of Ancient Winters seemed to rumble with power. The einherjar pushed the crowds back and a tense calm fell. Loki sat down on his throne, placing the Casket in his lap again, and spoke,

“The questions regarding lady Gerd shall be answered, but first, Prince Byleist, you stole a very powerful weapon from the Vaults of this palace. You realise that the punishment for such a crime is traditionally death.”

Byleist gave a rattling growl, but did not answer, so Loki continued,

“Given that you are a member of the royal family Jötunheim that is not really an option. Queen Aetril, I have asked you to be here to be an impartial party to the situation.”

Aetril nodded, looking relieved that the mob had been quieted.

“I have no wish to start another war with Jötunheim, but I cannot ignore your actions. However, as you may recall your brother and I struck a deal, that if Jötunheim made no attempts on Asgard’s safety, you would get some of the power of the Casket back. By stealing the Casket you broke the contract, therefore, you will not get anything from the Casket, which will belong to Asgard for me to do with as I see fit. That is your punishment for this theft, you’ve condemned your world to a slow death.”

Byleist roared in fury, launching himself at Loki, who threw out a hand and forced him back down with a wave of raw seiðr.

“You call my kind monsters, yet you are the ones who are condemning an entire race to death!” snarled the prince, his voice muffled against the floor.

“I tried to help you, but you decided to turn on me, and for that you must pay,” said Loki in a lazy voice. Sverrir, Dag, Frigga and Aetril were all staring at Loki in disbelief. Loki ignored them. “You will never see the Casket again.”

The Casket vanished from sight and Byleist let out a howl of pain like Loki had removed his arm. Loki was unmoved, his gaze turning to Gerd, who looked from Byleist to Loki with her bright eyes flashing red gold in the flames. Loki pointed a long pale finger at her.

“Explain.”

Gerd shuddered, “I –I –I’m sorry King Loki, I never meant to –to –I…” She let out a sound like the splitting of wood and dissolved into tears. Loki watched her impassively, ignoring his mother’s attempts to catch his eye, or Sverrir’s twitchy foot near his own. When it seemed Gerd would not be able to speak, Loki said,

“Allow me to make some assumptions. You are a Storm Giant, or more correctly, an íviðja as I believe your people call themselves. At some point in your life you encountered Freyr, a once member of the council, who, from what I have heard, forced you into marriage. Now I see he must have forced you to take on the form of an Asynjur as well, no doubt to hide your origins, which would have ostracised him. How am I doing?”

Gerd nodded, hiccupping, “He said he would curse my whole family if I didn’t submit –he killed my little sister when I said no, I didn’t want anyone else in my family to suffer because of me, so I went with him.”

“And he’s abused you ever since, isn’t that right?” asked Loki, his eyes narrowed.

“He –he wanted me to be a good Asynjur,” said Gerd, which made Byleist snarl furiously and rear up, looking half mad.

“Is this the work of the Golden Realm who would have us all view them as civilised? Letting your men come into other realms and steal women to brutalise and rape them, to force children on them, and then teach those children to hate their mother?”

“Byleist, please,” said Gerd softly and they looked at each other, some form of understanding passing between them. It seemed to strengthen Gerd’s resolve because she lifted her head and said in a calmer voice,

“I didn’t mean to make trouble King Loki, but my children were grown and saw me as nothing but mud on their shoes. I had no reason to stay –how could Freyr harm my family with the Bifröst destroyed. I thought I could get home through one of the other pathways, but they were damaged by the Bifröst’s destruction and we were trapped.” Her eyes met Loki’s and her expression was etched with deep lines of misery, “I just wanted to go home.”

“You aided a criminal in stealing a powerful weapon.”

“I’d already taken the Casket when I came upon her –she was looking for me to help her escape,” said Byleist. He seemed calmer now. “I’m not in the habit of leaving people to suffer.”

“Hmmm.” Loki sank back into his throne, his fingers resting against his lips thoughtfully as he regarded the two of them. Finally he stood up and said, “Judgement is reserved until I can speak with the King of Jötunheim. In the meantime both of you will be confined to rooms in the palace. Take them away.”

There was stunned muttering as Byleist and Gerd were pulled to their feet and led away. Gerd paused as she passed her children who stared up at her, open mouthed and horrified.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she said with her head hanging low as she walked on. Meanwhile, Loki continued,

“Bring me Freyr. And in the meantime I want his children to go back to their father’s house and put under guard for their protection. Anyone who makes any attempt to cause distress or harm will suffer severe consequences. Court is adjourned.”

With that King Loki stood up and left the Throne Room without a backwards glance.

**~*~**

It was fair to say Loki was in a bad mood by the time he was done with Freyr. The man had blustered and raged his way through Loki’s questioning and in the end had settled for saying

“What does it matter, she’s only a giant?”

That was the point where Loki had him thrown in the dankest dungeon, the one Tyr had enjoyed before Loki had enacted his death sentence. Seeing Freyr’s panicked expression had been very satisfying.

Heimdall arrived seconds later.

“You summoned me my king?”

Loki still struggled not to flinch from Heimdall’s face. The handsome man was now badly scarred, even after all of Eir’s work. The burns had left his skin with a melted, pockmarked texture and one of his golden eyes was half hidden behind scar tissue.

“I assume you’ve been watching today’s events.”

“Indeed, a most eventful day.”

Loki sneered, “Did you not see it coming?”

“I never knew Lady Gerd was a Jotun, whatever method was used to keep her in her Asynjur form prevented me from seeing it.” Heimdall frowned a little, “I feel as if I have been saying that too often of late.”

“I won’t disagree that your all seeing ability has missed a lot of things going on in this realm,” said Loki, folding his arms and slouching in his seat.

“You and your wife’s activities included,” said Heimdall with a knowing look.

“Can you see her?” asked Loki at once, as he always did when he saw Heimdall. He did not feel very hopeful to hear anything new.

“No, I can see no more than you when you scry. I believe Vanaheim is still where it has always been, but whatever technology or seiðr is being used to conceal it is something I have never encountered before.” Heimdall’s frown deepened, “Still, my vision is yet to go back to what it once was.”

And it may never be again, went unsaid. The damage to Heimdall’s body had been appalling, and his vision, both physical and seiðr based, had been as damaged as his flesh. He could still see better than anyone in Asgard, but it was no longer a steady gaze. Heimdall had admitted to holes and patches in his sight, and at times he could see almost nothing.

“So, can you see Thor?” asked Loki, picking up a stylus and twirling it between his fingers.

“Sometimes, he’s been travelling, I can sense a great change in him. He’s… lost some of his exuberance.”

The idea that Thor could stop being his cheerful self was more alarming to Loki than he was prepared to admit. In his mind, Thor would always be the loud boisterous oaf he had grown up with. Thor was unchangeable, immovable, it was what made him Thor.

“How are the path ways? Even if I can’t get to him right now, I might be able to send him a message. He was probably devastated when I got Mjölnir.”

“They are healing.”

“You’ve been saying that for two years!”

“I believe they are stable enough to send something small through them, however, that is much more your skill than mine.”

“I can’t remember the last time I got a letter through the channels, it was probably something really innocuous from Sigyn but-” Loki stopped and swallowed hard.

“Did you keep them?” asked Heimdall, tilting his head slightly.

“Most of them. I packed up everything before I left Idavoll on the tour so the builders could redesign my chambers –that was a mistake. I should have left my bedroom alone.”

“I’ve noticed you seem… unhappy.”

“Is that concern I hear in your voice?” asked Loki archly.

“An unhappy king is a king who cannot rule well, that is all,” said Heimdall, but there was a gentleness in his tone Loki wasn’t used to.

“Well, if you can think of a way for me to get Sigyn back you’ll have the best king in the Nine Realms because I’ll never stop smiling.”

Heimdall’s nose wrinkled slightly, “Grief makes you highly sentimental my king.”

Loki snorted. Heimdall regarded him for a long moment, then spoke again.  

“Do you know what I do when I’m not standing guard?”

Loki gave a start, “You’re not always standing guard?”

Heimdall gave him a look of deepest annoyance, “Even I need sleep and relaxation.”

“… do you just run out from wherever you’re relaxing when you know someone’s coming so it looks like you never leave?”

Heimdall arched his remaining eyebrow, “Maybe.”

Loki let out a humiliating giggle, but the image was far too funny to resist. Heimdall continued,

“I like my solitude, so when I’m not working, I’m training myself in new skills. Music, smithing, I even took up embroidery when you were a boy –just for something to do.”

“Are you trying to tell me I should do the same?”

“I think you need a distraction. Your magic is too familiar, and you’ve reached a point where your training is simply upkeep and you know what you can and cannot use, so trying a new weapon will not work. You need something new.”

“How bad am I that you’re the one giving me this advice?”

Heimdall did not answer, only walked to the window and stared down at the city.

“It is good to see it so restored.”

Loki nodded, still pondering Heimdall’s words.

“Keep an eye on Gerd and Byleist, I don’t want them harmed, or to escape again.”

“What will you do with them?” asked Heimdall, putting his back to the city.

“That is not for you to worry about,” said Loki, fondling Mjölnir’s handle.

“She’s taken to you,” said Heimdall, nodding at the hammer.

“Mmmm, well, let’s see how long that lasts,” said Loki, waving Heimdall out.

Left alone, Loki briefly thought about Freyr’s children and the devastating revelation they had be dealt. Well, wasn’t Asgard just full of surprises?

If they had not sided with their father, or been so unlikable, Loki might have felt a sense of camaraderie with them, even pity. As it was he was just furious at Odin for not noticing that so many of his inner circle weren’t trustworthy. Some king. Thor was no better, after all his friends only encouraged his reckless behaviour, indulged his stupidity so they could leech off him, and when he was gone they ran after him like parasites refusing to leave the host. At least Loki could be sure of his friends, right?

Sighing, Loki got to his feet and went up to his chambers. Hlin was putting Jörmungandr to bed as he arrived.

“Papa!” Jörmungandr dodged Hlin’s hands and ran to Loki, jumping into his arms. “I don’t wanna go to bed, I’m not tired. Don’t let mean old Hlin make me.”

Loki chuckled and kissed his son, squeezing him tight, “It is late son, so Hlin is right to put you to bed.”

Jörmungandr gave him a look of betrayal, and Loki sighed, “I’ll tell you what, you get into bed and I’ll tell you a story. How about that?”

“A good one?”

“Of course?”

“Can you tell me a story about when you went to Midgard with Mama Sigyn?”

Loki stiffened and glanced at Hlin, who had frozen where she was folding clothes. He watched her swallow, then set down the clothes and leave the room.  

Loki put Jörmungandr in his bed and checked on Fenrir before settling down with his son to tell a story.

“Have I told you the story about when we went to a kingdom called Tawantin Suyu?”

“No…”

“Hmm, well then, let me tell you. We arrived in the middle of summer, and I nearly fell over from the heat at once, but your mama loved it…”

It felt good to tell the story, he had not told one since the tour began for fear of being overheard. He left out the part where he and Sigyn had tried a few cacao leaves, become highly aroused and gotten in trouble for having sex against the temple wall, but otherwise the story was true.

“They crush babies’ heads? Really?” Jörmungandr gaped at Loki.

“Yes, they saw it as normal, even healthy, for the baby to have its head reshaped. It was a little odd looking at first, we were used to the Midgardian’s heads being the same shape as ours, but they seemed unharmed by it.”

“Weird… so, did you go back?”

Loki sighed, “Unfortunately by the time we went back there, the kingdom was gone, had been for decades. Even the language was gone, replaced by a language from another part of that world. Sad really, the artwork was fascinating, and they were very good at mathematics. I had expected them to become a dominant power in the future, but I suppose they were rather behind in terms of technology compared to other places. There were places like The Ayyubids where science was as ingrained a part of the culture as their religion, they were miles ahead of many peoples.”

“What happened to them?”

“Conquered, then decimated by disease. Sadly the Midgardians have a bad habit of doing that.”

“Why didn’t we stop them?”

Loki arched his eyebrow and chuckled, “That’s a day time question, and you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“But I’m not tiiiiired.”

Loki reached out and ran the back of his finger down Jörmungandr’s nose. Instantly Jörmungandr’s eyes started to drift shut. After six strokes on the top of the nose, Jörmungandr was sound asleep. Loki stayed a little longer, just to be sure, then got to his feet and went in search of Frigga.

**~*~**

“I kept it all in here,” said Frigga, pushing open the door off her own bedchambers. Inside were boxes, paintings and various objects. The mementos of his life with Sigyn. Loki looked around and his eyes fell on a dozen different things that brought memories instantly to the fore. His throat closed and he swallowed hard, his hand resting on the box he had put all her letters as he remembered Heimdall’s query. He really ought to go through them, read them and… he wasn’t sure. There were books of hers that he had hidden away, not wishing them to be damaged or muddled up with other books. He should read them again. He knew one day he would have to go through everything, and decide what he wanted to keep –and what was maybe worthless enough to throw away. The idea made him grimace and he pulled away from his musings to pick up a distinctively shaped box. As he crossed the room to it, Frigga asked gently, “Do you want this all back in your chambers?”

Something in his stomach lurched and he shook his head, “No, not yet. I’ll go through it first and see what –what’s worth keeping.”

He picked up the box and walked back out with Frigga. His mother eyed the box curiously.

“What is that?”

Loki set the box on a nearby table and opened the lid.

“It’s called a Pipa. Sigyn bought it for me, when we went to one of Midgards empires. I never got around to learning how to play it.” He picked it up and plucked the strings, “I thought it might be something to do.”

Frigga watched him examining the pipa, then said, “You know you can talk to me about anything. Even if we’re not on the same page right now… I’m here.”

Loki put the pipa away without replying. He picked the box up and went to the door, then he paused and looked back at her.

“Is it odd to worry that I’m remembering her as an ideal and not as she was –is –was?” he sighed and shook his head. “Never mind. Good night mother.”

“Good night my boy.”

**~*~**

Loki was glad of his silencing spells once he started practising with the pipa –he was not good. Still, it annoyed him so much that he practiced as much as he could, usually for several hours after the boys went to bed. It was a good substitute for his nights of talking with Hlin.  The chill from her had gotten worse, and Loki thought he had caught her muttering darkly around Jörmungandr and others. He tried to ignore her.

During the day, while Jörmungandr was at his lessons and after Loki dealt with the paperwork he couldn’t avoid, he worked with the seiðr casters and the engineers on finishing the Bifröst. Heimdall was certain it was now safe to start tying the new Bifröst into the pathways to help it work. With every piece of progress they made Loki was a step closer to finding out what had happened to Sigyn.

Loki avoided Sverrir, Dag and Reifer when he could, mostly so they would have time to enjoy their own lives. He had taken too much from them in the past four years. Sometimes he sat and wrote long letters to Sigyn, pouring out his thoughts and feelings like he had done just after the Rebellion. He felt like a fool doing so, some part of him shouted that he ought to have gotten past this stage of grief, moved on but how could he move on when there was no certainty of her death? Some days, bereft of other options, Loki studied up on the oncoming Convergence. It was a unique time of magnificent seiðr, and he wanted to be ready for it. If nothing else, the convergence might to allow him access to Vanaheim he was currently denied.

Two months after the capture of Gerd and Byleist, who were still being kept in comfortable imprisonment, unlike Freyr who was sharing his incarceration with rapists, murderers and raiders, Sverrir came to Loki in the library looking excited.

“My king! The engineers have made contact with Alfheim!”

Loki jumped to his feet. “Show me!”

They went to the old communications room, a place where audio and visual links could be established between Asgard and the other realms. It had not been used much since before Loki was born, because Asgard liked a more ‘personal touch’ in their control over the realms. The screen was huge, filling up a wall and was flickering on and off as the engineers worked on it. Since the technology worked in a similar manner to the Bifröst , they had had the same problems with it.  

“Have you reached a person yet?” asked Loki as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“No my king, if their system is as unused as ours, there may be no one there,” said the Chief Engineer.

“Call the queen,” said Loki.

The screen was still flickering as Aetril arrived with Frigga. Aetril’s wings were fluttering anxiously as she wrung her hands.

“You’ve reached my home?”

“We’re trying to get someone’s attention right now,” said Loki, his own stomach jumping.

“The communicator is in my southern palace, and it’s almost autumn. One of my children should be there by now.”

The screen continued to flicker, but an hour passed and Aetril refused to leave. She would not move from her position as close to the screen as she could be without being in the way. Finally, there was a screech of feedback, then the screen started to shift, a large figure forming, then splitting into two.

“Try calling them Queen Aetril,” said the Lead Engineer. Aetril pressed a button and said,

“This is Queen Aetril of Alfheim, I’m calling from Asgard. Respond.”

More feedback, making Loki wince, then Aetril said again,

“This is the queen of Alfheim calling from Asgard, if you can hear me please respond.”

The screen shifted, flickered, then began to come into focus, along with a voice.

“This is Princess Deirbhile –máithair! Can you hear me?”

Aetril’s voice cracked as she called, “Yes! Yes I can hear you! Deirbhile! Can you hear me?”

“Maithair!”

The screen finally cleared, revealing a beautiful woman with porcelain skin and light green hair next to a woman who was obviously working on the other end to clear the signal. Deirbhile, Aetril’s eldest daughter, beamed tearfully, crying again,

“Maithair!”

“Iníon!” called Aetril, reaching out a hand as if she could touch her daughter through the screen.

“Maithair! We thought you lost!” cried Deirbhile, “Where are you, are you safe? What happened? No one can travel by the pathways –are you safe?”

“I’m fine! I’m safe in Asgard. There was an incident, the Bifröst was destroyed, it must have caused damage beyond Asgard’s pathways, I’ve been stuck here.” Aetril’s voice was thick with emotion, and Loki saw tears on her cheeks as she stared up at her daughter. He caught Frigga’s eye and she smiled, looking tearful herself.

“The Bifröst? So –so Asgard’s been cut off?” Deirbhile sounded almost delightfully scandalised, despite her emotional reunion.

“Yes, we’ve heard nothing from the other realms, how is Alfheim? Has anything happened?”

“Berach, Nuada and I have shared the ruling, tensions are high and the people are fully prepared to mass an army to rescue you if that is needed,” said Deirbhile with a tense expression.

“It is not, but I appreciate it,” said Aetril soothingly.

“When can you come home?” asked Deirbhile.

“As soon as the Bifröst is deemed safe,” said Loki, stepping forward, “We need to finish repairs, then test it. Once we know your mother won’t be harmed, she will be allowed home at once. It may be another few months, depending on how stable the pathways are.”

“Couldn’t you use the pathways? Do you really have to use the Bifröst?” asked Deirbhile petulantly.

“If the Bifröst isn’t safe I won’t trust the pathways to be safe,” said Loki who knew the pathways well. “Believe me I have no desire to keep your mother from you, but I don’t wish to see her harmed or worse by being careless.”

Deirbhile narrowed her eyes at him, then nodded, “Very well.”

“A leanabh,” crooned Aetril, “It won’t be much longer and at least we all know we’re all well.”

Deirbhile nodded again, her expression softening, “I’m so glad you’re well máthair.”

“And I you, and I want to talk about your siblings, but, tell me, what of Vanaheim?”

Loki came forward as Deirbhile paled a little, “You –you don’t know?”

“No, we cannot see it with any seiðr or technology, even the Gatekeeper’s sight cannot see it.”

“Nor can we,” said Deirbhile, now pulling on a lock of her hair. “Berach’s been going mad about it, almost as worried about that as about you.”

“So you’ve seen nothing, heard nothing?” demanded Loki, his heart pounding.

“Nothing. But…” Deirbhile bit her lip and looked at her mother, “Máthair, did Malekith attack Asgard?”

“Only in that he had the Bifröst destroyed. He has not attempted an invasion,” said Loki over Aetril.

“Well he has not come here either, and you’d think if we were cut off…” Deirbhile looked anxious now and Aetril’s hands flew to her face,

“Oh no…”

“What? You think Malekith’s behind Vanaheim’s disappearance?” asked Loki frantically.

“Svartalfheim cloaking technology is very sophisticated and powerful, but I never thought it was powerful enough to hide a planet.”

“But if it is, he could be doing it to hide what he’s up to,” said Deirbhile. She looked very worried. “Vanaheim’s army is something he’s always wanted control over –but so long as Asgard was able to step in he never would have tried. Yet if Asgard is cut off…”

“Malekith could have taken over the realm by now,” said Aetril. She sounded terrified and Loki, his head spinning, knew why. Asgard’s army was strong, but Vanaheim’s was massive, the biggest of the Nine Realms, and Malekith was a very, very good general.

“The Vanir would never submit to Malekith!” he cried.

“He wouldn’t need to make them submit if he had a way of controlling them,” said Aetril, now swaying on her feet. She looked like she might faint. Loki grabbed her arm and ordered the engineers out, leaving only the royals and Sverrir in the room.

“Is that possible?” asked Frigga.

“How?” asked Sverrir.

“Sigyn,” said Loki in a hollow voice. Everyone looked at him. “If he had Sigyn –her people adore her, her parents groomed her to be worshipped like a goddess to her people. If Malekith had her under his control…”

Deirbhile nodded, her wings sagging slightly, “That’s what we’ve been afraid of.”

“Sigyn would never submit to Malekith,” said Frigga, taking Loki’s hand.

“Everyone eventually breaks under torture,” said Loki in the same hollow voice. It was strange that he could still talk when he could not breathe. The memory of Sigyn curled up, naked and bleeding, rose before his eyes and he retched.

“Loki!” Frigga’s arm curled tight around his waist as he doubled over.

“I’m alright! I’m fine!” he rasped, pulling himself upright and wiping his mouth. He leaned heavily on the console and looked up at Deirbhile, who was staring as if she could see inside him. “Do you think we need to prepare for an invasion? Heimdall has seen nothing to suggest Svartalfheim is planning an invasion –but if they can hide a whole planet…”

“I think it would be advisable, for both of us,” said Deirbhile, looking at her mother, who nodded.

“Do it, have the army on alert, but I want no aggression. Only if a threat is made will you act.”

“Understood.”

Loki wondered what it was like to have the whole family sharing the role of ruling. Not that he had much family to help. Frigga was still holding his waist as she said,

“Why don’t we leave you two to talk for a while?”

Aetril and Deirbhile nodded, and Loki staggered out of the room, with Frigga and Sverrir at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while because I’ve been busy as usual, but also I needed to work on it because I hit a bit of a conflict based on my view of Loki versus others, mostly based around Loki’s resentment and depression. I had to think about what I was doing with the character and see if it was what I thought was most appropriate, and in the end I decided that it was the way to go. So I’m sticking with my plans, because I’m honestly really excited about the journey I’m going to take Loki on.


	11. Reality Arrives

Two months crept by after Asgard made contact with Alfheim. They were able to reach Niðavellir, but the dwarves had no more news than Alfheim on the goings on of Vanaheim and Svartalfheim. Jötunheim had no method of contact with the nine realms, so they were still unreachable. The people celebrated this progress, save one.

King Loki was as gaunt and sickly as a ghoul, staying locked up in his chambers most of the time. Sometimes people could hear music filtering through the window but only on the stillest of days.

The eldest prince was often seen playing with his friends when he wasn’t studying and the king would often appear nearby, watching his son with an intense expression of pride and protectiveness. Prince Fenrir was never far away, in the arms of his nurse, who was enjoying the attentions of many young men. 

Meanwhile, the Asgardian army was readying itself, for what they were not entirely sure. All they knew was that they were now being tasked with ensuring every defence in the realm was in perfect condition, and they themselves were up to scratch. It would have been just like times before, under Odin, if not for the fact that the king had commanded that the soldiers work with the seiðr wielders. This did not sit well with many of the longest serving men, who viewed seiðr as a vice, not a calling. Still, they were not about to question a king like Loki who had proven he was not to be refused.

The seiðr casters who did not join the soldiers were tasked with forging the Bifröst to working order. Tired of waiting, the king had commanded they get to work, regardless of the pathways’ stability. 

“So, the army is nearly ready for anything by now, the Bifröst is driving ahead with its final preparations, a case is being drawn up against Freyr, and Prince Byleist and Lady Gerd, and we are negotiating with both Alfheim and Niðavellir to resume a steady trading –more so than before, just like you asked,” said Sverrir, eyeing Loki nervously from where he stood in the king’s study.

Loki was sitting away from his desk, curled up by the window and staring out at the city with unseeing eyes. He looked like a skeleton that refused to die, and any vibrancy that he had borne in the past three years had been snuffed out. He still worked, in fact he was hard to stop, driving onwards with his plans, his determination to be a good father to his sons, ensuring he maintained a careful image in front of the people, but when he was alone with Sverrir he did not bother keeping up pretences.

Sverrir appreciated this level of trust, he just wished it came with an ability to help.

“Loki… can we talk?”

“Mmmm,” mumbled Loki, not really listening. Sverrir dragged a chair over and sat next to him.

“I hear you’ve been learning to play an instrument.”

“I’m rubbish at it,”

“Hence the practise I assume,” said Sverrir, determined not to let this get more depressing.

“It’s a distraction.”

“From?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know –you won’t tell me.”

Loki drew in a shaking breath and said quietly, “I dream every night that he’s hurting her. If it weren’t so unbearable, I’d probably commend my mind for its creativity.”

Sverrir winced.

“I hate being helpless, and that’s exactly what I am –what I've been for three years. Helpless, trapped in this realm and I –how does anyone stand it? How do you stand being so confined?” He turned his gaunt face to Sverrir, eyes sunken and dark. Sverrir swallowed, then said,

“If it is what you fear, if you really believe that Malekith has your wife in his clutches, then you have to save her.”

“I want-”

“And how can you do that when you’re a walking skeleton?” Sverrir demanded, daring to prod Loki in the side. “You’re not just lean anymore, you’re sick, Loki. You need to build up your strength, be in good condition so that when we find Vanaheim, and we will, you can blaze through your enemies and tear Malekith apart to save your wife. You can’t do that as you are.”

Loki stared at him, and at last Sverrir could see that something was reaching him. Sverrir leaned forward,

“You told me you had to choose between Asgard and your wife, and I think that ever since you’ve believed her dead, but you couldn’t accept it. You’ve been in denial about her death for three years –and maybe lately you’d started to accept she was gone, but now for the first time you really believe that she could be alive, and you want it so much, but it hurts to believe it, because then you have to face that she’s probably suffered unimaginable pain all this time. But dwelling on this fact is not going to help her –it’s only going to let you punish yourself, and what use is that to anyone?”

Loki’s throat convulsed, “I…”

Sverrir reached out and took Loki’s hand, “Come on Loki, you want to be the husband Sigyn deserves, don’t you?”

Loki’s face hardened and he sat up, “Yes!”

“Then come and eat, train, live. Think about what you want to do to punish Malekith, and make sure you’re strong enough to do it.”

Loki’s eyes flashed and he let Sverrir pull him to his feet. “I’ll flay him alive myself!”

“Good, you do that. But first let’s eat.”

Perhaps, Sverrir reflected, it was not the healthiest way to motivate someone into taking better care of themselves, but it was certainly effective.

**~*~**

A week later, Loki was practising his pipa when he saw it.

Only that he was sitting by the window to feel the breeze he would have missed it.

The night sky flickered with green, purple and yellow, then went still. It was silent and brief, but Loki knew powerful seiðr when he saw it. He set aside the pipa and went to the window, peering out into the dark sky with a deep frown.

All seemed normal, but Loki was certain he had not been seeing things. Then he sensed Heimdall calling to him from the Observatory. He quickly set aside the pipa and left the palace. Sleipnir seemed to sense his unease because he galloped as fast as he could across the new Bifröst.

Heimdall stood in the centre of the observatory, his eyes fixed on a hooded woman who stood near the opening that would form the wormhole.

“My king, we have a guest,” said Heimdall. He sounded slightly shaken and Loki’s hands curled into fists, prepared to fight.

“I see that, and who might you be?”

The woman pushed her hood back and fixed Loki with a levelled look. For a moment Loki did not recognise her, but then, as he stared, trying to understand her expectant look, it hit him like a blow to the chest.

“You!” he cried, “You’re, you’re one of the –the Ey! You’re one of S-Sigyn’s maids.”

The Ey bent her knees in a light curtsey, which looked odd in trousers, and smirked at him. “Ljúfvina. My name is Ljúfvina.”

Loki’s head swam and he swayed where he stood. “You’ve taken a name? But you only can do that when you’re no longer in her service, and –she’s dead, isn’t she?”

The Ey –Ljúfvina frowned at him, but any reply she might have given Loki did not hear. He staggered back, his knees buckling and only Heimdall grabbing his arm kept him upright. Loki clawed at his chest, which seemed to have seized up, and he could not breathe. This woman had come to tell him what he had dreaded to hear. His wife was dead.

Then he felt Ljúfvina grab his shoulder and shake him.

“-Alive! She’s alive King Loki!”

Loki blinked hard, looking at her in disbelief.

“Say that again,” he gasped.

“Sigyn is alive, she’s alive and well, your majesty,” said Ljúfvina with a crooked smile. “She’s the one who sent me to speak with you.”

It seemed to take an age for Loki to really understand her words. Then, as he started to understand, it felt like a blazing fire rose in his chest.

“She –she’s alive? Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” she said.

A laugh broke out of Loki’s mouth, shock and delight mingling with unnameable feelings as he pulled himself up straight and said,

“I have to see her. How did you get here? Can we go to Vanaheim?”

“I would ask that you wait a bit,” said Ljúfvina, “I think it would be best if I explained the situation to you before you and my mistress see each other again.”

Loki scowled at her, “No, I will hear it from her lips. Tell me how you came to Asgard.”

Ljúfvina regarded him for a long moment, then drew herself up, “I’m sorry, but my mistress has ordered me to ensure you know the story before you come to Vanaheim.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Loki snapped, his joy fading rapidly to frustration. “You can’t expect me to sit here and let you tell something I don’t care about and block me from reaching my wife.”

Ljúfvina did not so much as flicker in her stance, “If you don’t allow me to tell you, my mistress has ordered that you not be allowed to come to Vanaheim.”

“I don’t believe you! Sigyn would never do anything to keep us apart like this –doesn’t she know how much I’ve missed her? She must!”

Heimdall stepped forward and said in a low voice, “My king, if the lady insists, what can another hour or so hurt? If it means that your reunion goes well, and is not harmed by haste?”

Loki glared at Heimdall, “Meaning?”

“It may be that the princess has been through some ordeal, something that has left scars, and perhaps she wishes you to be prepared? Do you think she would have asked this if it was not important?”

Loki looked back at Ljúfvina and it suddenly occurred to him that this could be a trick. Sigyn would never, ever deny him a chance to see her. This woman might have turned on her mistress, she might have sold her to Malekith and now, now she was probably trying to lead Loki into a trap.

Loki’s resolve steeled and he grabbed at his composure, pulling it around himself like a shield. He would play along and listen to her lies. He would find a way to get the truth from her and find Sigyn once and for all.

“Come, I will hear you.”

**~*~**

They went to the king’s study, Frigga meeting them there. She did not hesitate to embrace Loki as soon as she saw him.

“Heimdall sent word, oh Loki!”

Loki held her tight, finding strength from her touch for the first time in a while.

“Sit and tell me everything,” he commanded Ljúfvina, sitting on his own golden seat. Ljúfvina gave Frigga an uneasy look, then sat down before him.

“It all started not long after the Ostara festival. I don’t know if Sigyn told you, but she planned on touring the realm and reconnecting with the people, as she felt she had lost touch with them.”

“I doubt it was as bad as she feared,” said Frigga softly, sitting next to Loki.

“At the beginning it went well, any concerns or issues the people may have had were soothed away by the princess’ words and deeds. She made sure to address concerns they had about the future, to tackle civil and social issues that had come up, as well as issues of economics and politics. It was not easy, her own confidence was her greatest enemy. Sometimes she would say things like ‘Loki would know what to do.’ and I would see how much that frustrated and hurt her.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at the redhead. Ljúfvina swallowed, and when she spoke again, her voice cracked,

“Before the tour began, I had been contacted by my older brother, a forbidden act, but as it turned out, it was a wise action. I quickly realised that he was fishing for information from me, so I attempted to fish back. Eventually I realised that my brother was trying to ascertain the princess’ movements, to attempt an abduction.”

“What?” gasped Frigga, “Vanaheim loves its princess.”

“Not everyone in Vanaheim loved her. Some resented that she exists because they could have had their own power before King Njordr and Queen Skadi rose to take over the whole realm. Others disagree with the idea of monarchy –yet more simply felt she was not the best choice of ruler because of her seeming disinterest in recent years.” Her eyes fell on Loki’s and he could feel the burning judgement within. He sat up straighter in his seat,

“Perhaps if you and the other Ey, and the Svana had not been so controlling, had allowed her to do things for herself instead of treating her like a doll with no mind, that would never have been an issue.”

Ljúfvina visibly restrained herself from responding, simply saying, “A few groups came together, forming a resistance. They planned to destroy the Royal Family, but it was not so simple as to kill them.”

“Meaning?”

Ljúfvina looked wary, then said in a cold voice, “I tell you this because you are close to her –yet it would be best, majesty, if this information never left this room.”

“You have my word,” said Loki, who was ready to swear anything to see Sigyn again.

“There is magic, deep, powerful magic, inside Sigyn. It is the same sort of magic that the All-father possesses, it connects her to Vanaheim’s magic.”

“Sigyn’s never mentioned such a thing,” said Loki at once.

“Some state secrets must be kept as such, even between sheets,” said Ljúfvina coolly. Loki flushed, rage burning up his chest. He refused to believe that Sigyn could have kept such a secret from him.

“This connection is something the women of Sigyn’s paternal family has always borne. When her mother married her father, she took on the same power. Women manage seiðr in a way that suits this sort better, it’s why their pleasure is key in the fertility rites to encourage the land. This connection meant that Sigyn was magically bound to Vanaheim, and an extra feature was added to ensure she was bound to the throne. When she would become queen, that magic would be active, not just passive within her. This was also a safe guard for the Royal Family. As long as Sigyn did not reject the throne, no one else would be recognised by Vanaheim itself as the ruler.”

None of this was familiar to Loki, and he refused to believe it. Sigyn would not and could not have kept this from him. Yet Frigga spoke,

“Vanaheim relies on that magic to ensure it’s great fertility, if Skadi and Sigyn were killed, the power would be lost.” She sounded appalled. “Vanaheim would go hungry if that power was damaged!”

“It was an insurance against assassination,” said Ljúfvina, “The only way to keep the power from being diminished, was if Sigyn relinquished her claim to the throne. That was the rebels’ plan. To abduct Sigyn and force her to give up the throne.”

“But you knew in advance and warned her?” asked Loki. He still did not believe that Sigyn had kept that a secret, yet his mother’s knowledge of the power had caught him off guard. He had to remind himself that his mother had once been a princess of a Vanir realm, one that had been ended when Njordr and Skadi had come to power.

“I did. However, our preparations were for naught. As we travelled through a forest in the easternmost part of the realm, our party was bombed. Many people were killed, but I and the other attendants of the princess were alive, along with her. We tried to protect her, but the rebels outnumbered us. The princess told us to run –and we did. But the rebels caught the princess.”

“You abandoned her?” demanded Loki furiously.

“We did not have her protection of magic! I fled to get help, to rescue her from them. If I had stayed I would have had the same fate as the three Ey they caught, along with the Svana!” Ljúfvina’s eyes were wet and she was shaking, despite her obvious attempts to stay calm. Frigga rested her hand on Loki’s arm to silence him, saying gently,

“What happened to them?”

Ljúfvina swallowed, her chin dimpling with the effort of repressing her tears, “The rebels, they tried to force Sigyn to give up the throne, but she refused. When physical violence against her did not work, nor mental torment… they started killing the Ey and Svana in front of her to force her.”

Loki’s stomach turned and he gripped his mother’s hand tight. In front of his face swam images of faceless men, beating his wife, murdering her servants, trying to force her to obey their demands.

“You said she’s safe now… is that where she’s been this whole time?” he asked, hardly able to speak as Frigga kissed the back of his hand in support.

“No. She was held by the rebels for two months, but she was stubborn and would not give into their demands. They had not anticipated that, and were forced to go to their next plan without a key component. If Sigyn had severed her connection, then only Queen Skadi would have stood in their way.”

“How did no one find her?”

“Because the fools were in league with Malekith!” snapped Ljúfvina, “He had made a deal with them. He would support their cause and provide them with cloaking technology and weapons, if they would agree to ally with him to invade Asgard once they had established a new government. The rebels hated Asgard as much as they hated the royal family, seeing them as one in the same, puppeteers of the Vanir people. So of course they agreed. With Malekith behind them, they were far more deadly than anyone expected. They helped Malekith bring a small battalion into the capital and they attacked the palace, murdering the king and queen.”

“Skadi and Njordr are dead?” Frigga’s grip tightened on Loki’s hand, “Oh! Oh poor Sigyn.”

“My mistress was brought to Malekith –I believe they hoped he would break her. Sigyn finally managed to break through the seiðr restraints they used to hold her, and escaped. Yet it was too late, Malekith turned on the rebels and launched an attack from above. Before anyone knew what had happened, ships rained down from the sky. They destroyed the capital, they destroyed great cities of power and resources, they devastated crops to force our people to surrender. We were caught completely unaware –King Njordr and Queen Skathi had kept it a secret that Sigyn was even missing, so no one was prepared for such an attack.”

“They kept it a secret? Their only child was missing and they did nothing?” demanded Loki. Ljúfvina shrugged,

“I was not kept abreast of this information. Once I returned to the palace after raising the alarm with the other Ey that had survived, we were kept in the dark. Frustrated, we left to try and find her ourselves. Thus, we managed to avoid the devastation of the attack, it was pure luck.”

“What of Sigyn?” demanded Loki, losing his patience. Ljúfvina licked her lips and glanced about as if seeking something and Frigga said,

“You must be thirsty-”

“You can drink what you like when you tell me about Sigyn!” Loki barked, making Frigga jump.

Ljúfvina swallowed and sighed, “Sigyn fled, she was broken and exhausted, and had shifted into some sort of fast moving animal to escape from her tormenters. Hiding in a forest, she did not emerge for days, and everyone thought her dead. People were fleeing from their homes to escape the oncoming army, they were terrified, all of us were, and then we saw that explosion which we later learned meant the Bifröst was destroyed. Asgard would not come to our aid.

“After days of being in a senseless animal state, Sigyn began to recover herself, and returned to her natural form. She was still covered in wounds from her torment, they had shaved her hair away to degrade her –no one recognised her when she finally came upon some people. They just thought she was a survivor, and at first, she did not correct them. After all, what if they hated her too?”

“So what happened?” demanded Loki. “You said she was safe and well, does that mean Malekith was stopped?”

“I and the other Ey were travelling too and we eventually found her, and through us still looking like ourselves, we exposed her identity. Yet the people did not turn on her, rather they turned to her for salvation. Sigyn pulled herself together and began to work on sending the Dökkálfar back to where they came from. It took the better part of two years to do so, but eventually, finally, she killed Malekith and led the people to victory. Vanaheim is once more free, though the cost was beyond imagining. We had a population of 9 billion people. Now we have 4 billion, and when the war was over, we had so little food that many died of starvation. My mistress, now queen, has been working desperately to repair the damage.”

“Why not come to us for help? You said two years –how long has the war been over?” asked Loki, his stomach dropping away at the impossible size of the devastation.

“We will celebrate the first anniversary in two months,” said Ljúfvina, “And to answer your question, we could not seek help, for we were still blocked by the cloaking technology of the Dökkálfar, only able to access Svartalfheim through some of the pathways they used. My queen used this link to force the shaken Dökkálfar into submission. Svartalfheim is now under Vanir control and so we used their food to feed our people for a time. Yet, my mistress did not wish to continue that unnecessarily, it would only lead to conflict in the future. So we have been using the best of our fertility magic to resurrect the burned land. There is still a long way to go, but, at last, Vanaheim is beginning to recover.”

Loki could hardly believe that was true after a single year with so much devastation, but he did not care. He had heard the story, now-

“When can I see her?”

“My queen will be happy to receive you in a week.”

“A WEEK?” Loki exploded, “She expects me to wait a week?”

“My queen wishes that she welcome all the monarchs of the realms as one. Since that is impossible with Midgard, she will settle for Jötunheim, Alfheim, Nidavellir and Asgard.”

“Wait, she wants to meet all of us at once? When will I get to see her privately? When will I-”

“That is up to my queen, and she will not tell me more than I have told you. She has not expressed any interest in seeing you privately.”

If Loki had felt shaken before, it was nothing compared to now. Frigga leaned forward and said,

“She must intend some kind of meeting, something in secret perhaps?”

“I doubt it –things are more complicated than you realise. During the war it came to light that King Loki was my queen’s lover, everyone in Vanaheim knows it.”

“So –everyone knows I’m her husband?”

“No, they know you were her lover. There’s a difference. And it’s unlikely my queen will open any discussion of marriage any time soon. It is not the time.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t explain why she won’t see me!” Loki burst out. It was infuriating. All those months, those years, waiting for news, for something, and now that he had it, Sigyn was denying him any kind of contact? It could not be –someone had to be keeping her from him, and this woman was helping them. Had she not admitted that her own brother had helped torture Sigyn? Why should Loki trust a word she said?

“Understand your majesty, Queen Sigyn has been dealing with many great and difficult issues. Her personal life is not important in the scheme of things. I can ask her to see you privately, but I cannot guarantee she will give you such a chance.”

“You do that, now tell me how you got here?” said Loki, shaking slightly.

Ljúfvina gave a light shrug, “Asgard is not the only one who can build a Bifröst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back in the Long Game, I stated that there were only 3 billion people on Vanaheim, but I decided that wasn’t correct for the kind of world I had established Vanaheim as, with large families, good health care and fertile, hence the increase in numbers.


	12. Resignation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's anger gets the better of him.

Ljúfvina returned to Vanaheim, refusing all of Loki’s suggestions to follow her. At one point Loki nearly just changed into a mouse to hide in her pocket to get there, but his mother’s hand on his arm held him back. He was forced to watch as Ljúfvina was swept up in a shimmer of rainbow lights. Frigga put her arm around his waist and held him tight as if to prop him up, but Loki could barely feel her. His whole body was numb.

“Loki-” started Frigga.

“Can you see her?” asked Loki across his mother, looking at Heimdall.

“No,” said Heimdall, frowning deeply. “Vanaheim is still blocked from my vision.”

“I need to get to Vanaheim, I need to find out what’s really going on,” said Loki. His voice sounded distant to his own ears.

“Loki, you must think clearly,” said Frigga sharply. “If what Ljúfvina has said is true, you have to tread lightly. Think about how deeply the rebellion affected us, on a personal level and as a realm, and imagine how traumatised Vanaheim must be from what happened to them –how traumatised Sigyn must be from it all.”

“Which is why I should be with her!” How did no one seem to understand this? Loki wanted to be with his wife, hold her and kiss her, to comfort her after being alone for so long. Was that not part of his duty to her? Was that not what a husband did for a wife?

“Loki, there could be a political reason for Sigyn doing this,” said Frigga, holding him tight.

“I don’t care-”

“You have to, because she will and you must care for her sake. You must respect her decision, if you are to have any hope of restoring your relationship.”

“But it can’t be right!” Loki burst out, “She needs me, I know it.”

“Of course she does, but if this is the way she wants it to be, you must respect that. Do not sully your reunion with her by ignoring her requests. You remember becoming king and fearing no one would obey you?” asked Frigga. Loki stared at her in surprise. “Your wife is now a queen, after a terrible tragedy, and it may be that your relationship will make things difficult for her. The best thing you can do right now, is do as she asks, get the measure of the situation when you arrive in Vanaheim, and act as a friend to her and Vanaheim.”

“A friend?” Loki echoed hollowly.

“Yes. Look at me Loki,” Frigga took his chin in her hand and made him look her in the eye, “I know this is not what you were hoping, but take heart. Sigyn is alive, and she has won a great victory. Yet such an experience will not have left her untouched, she may not be the same woman you fell in love with, so you must temper your desire for a reunion with cautious consideration. Tread lightly, and you will see a greater return than if you press too hard.”

Loki swallowed, looking away from her. Every fibre of his being was screaming to ignore her, to find a way to Sigyn, right now. Yet, there was some merit to her words. The last thing he wanted was to start their reunion with a fight. Besides if, as he suspected, there was some sort of subterfuge going on, if Sigyn was queen in name but under the control of someone else forcing her to deny him, then he would have to be very careful about what he said and did until he had the measure of the situation.

“Very well, I will be patient,” he said, looking back at his mother and forcing a smile. “I should go and check on the boys.”

“Loki,” Frigga pulled him back to her, “It would be best if you said nothing to Jörmungandr until you have seen Sigyn, until you and she have had time to talk. It would be cruel to get his hopes up.”

Loki thought back to his conversations with Jörmungandr about Sigyn, how his son did not care for her because she was not around. If he knew Sigyn was alive, he would feel differently, when he met her he would understand that she was his mother, and no one else. He would finally understand.

“I will see mother,” he said to Frigga, shaking her off and walking back to Sleipnir. The horse butted at his chest, pawing at the Bifröst with one huge hoof. Loki stroked the horse’s muzzle, trying to pull his thoughts together as he tugged on the bridle for something to do. He could feel Heimdall and Frigga watching him and refused to show any weakness.

“Loki, please try to stay calm,” said Frigga, sounding worried now.

“Of course mother,” he murmured, mounting Sleipnir and returning to the palace. His chest felt as if it would burst, with joy, with rage, with horror and glee. He all but ran into Jörmungandr’s room, startling his son awake.

“Papa-?”

Loki swooped down on his skinny son and swept him into his arms. He spun him around in the centre of the room, to Jörmungandr’s obvious confusion and delight.

“Papa! What’s happening?”

“I just love my son, is that not a good enough reason to be happy?” asked Loki, dancing around with Jörmungandr in his arms. He kissed his son’s cheeks and held him close, swaying from side to side. Just wait until Sigyn saw him, until she saw Fenrir. It would all be exactly as it ought to be. He would have to start planning a new set of rooms, for her and their future children. Sigyn would need a study, somewhere she could work, -and there would have to be a coronation, the grandest Asgard had ever seen for the most incredible queen it would ever have.

Planning it would take months, and they would need to have a real wedding first! Jörmungandr could stand as his second man –Fenrir would serve as the cup bearer! Loki would make sure that everything was absolutely perfect for her –Sigyn would not have to worry about a thing, he would handle everything.

“Prince Jörmungandr what are you –my king?” It was Hlin, rubbing her eyes and looking half asleep. She stared at the two in astonishment as Loki continued to dance around with Jörmungandr. “What is going on?”

“I’m celebrating,” said Loki, suddenly feeling smug. “I’ve received good news and I wanted to share it with my son.”

Hlin frowned at him and Loki stopped dancing, setting Jörmungandr on his hip. A vicious spike of glee flooded him and he looked at Jörmungandr and said in a clear voice,

“Do you remember what I told you about Vanaheim?”

“Yes,” said Jörmungandr, sounding wary.

“Well, we just had a visit from a woman from Vanaheim, and she told me that your mother Sigyn is alive and well!”

Jörmungandr’s eyes widened, but he did not smile or cheer or do any of the things Loki had hoped for.

“Oh,” he mumbled rather flatly. Loki’s excitement deflated a little.

“Oh? Aren’t you happy? Your mother is alive! She’s going to come home to us, and we’re all going to be a family.”

“Oh,” was the reply. Loki frowned and set Jörmungandr on his feet, leaning his hands on his knees.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Jörmungandr shrugged, a frown tugging on his face. His hands twisted at the hem of his shirt and he shuffled back a little from Loki, turning his face away.

“Jörmungandr, what’s wrong? You can tell me, why aren’t you happy?”

“I dunno.” His eyes jumped to Hlin and away and Loki straightened up, turning on Hlin.

“Have you been saying things to my son?”

Hlin started, eyes widening, “What?”

“About his mother? Have you been talking against her to him?” demanded Loki, rage replacing his excitement in an instant.

“No! I haven’t said a thing about her,” cried Hlin, stepping back.

“I don’t believe you!” He turned back to Jörmungandr and said, “What has she said Jörmungandr?”

Jörmungandr shook his head, staring up at him with wide eyes. Loki drew in a deep breath and reached down, clasping Jörmungandr’s shoulders.

“It’s all right Jörmungandr, I’m not upset with you, but I need to know what she’s said to you.”

“I haven’t-” started Hlin.

“Be quiet!” barked Loki, feeling Jörmungandr flinch under his hands. He took another deep breath, “Jörmungandr, just tell me the truth.”

“She’s not said anything –and you promised not to yell anymore,” said Jörmungandr. He sounded almost… disappointed. It stung. Loki swallowed and forced his voice to be calm,

“I don’t understand, why aren’t you happy? Sigyn –your mother –she’s alive, she’s not just alive, she’s now the queen of Vanaheim, and I’m going to make sure we’re a proper family at last. Don’t you want that?”

Jörmungandr scuffed at the cracked mural under his feet, “I dunno.”

Loki spread his hands in disbelief, “I don’t understand, don’t you want a mother who loves you? Who will tuck you in, and play with you, and look after you?”

“Hlin does that.”

“Hlin isn’t your mother, son.”

“Mama’s dead. I don’t want another one, I want Hlin,” said Jörmungandr darkly. Loki dropped his hands from Jörmungandr’s shoulders and his son ran across the room and put his arms around Hlin’s legs, hiding his face against her hip. Hlin rested her hand on his back, her eyes fixed on Loki like he was a threat.

It was a nightmare, it had to be. Loki refused to believe that after so much worry and grieving, Sigyn was alive but refusing to see him, and Jörmungandr preferred his hired servant to the woman who had loved him for centuries. It was like he was watching his dreams crumble under his fingertips.

Loki laughed, a high giggle that he was caught off guard by. Hlin tensed, clutching Jörmungandr to her as if afraid Loki might attack them. The sheer audacity of it, the sheer contempt of her glare –the pathetic grudge for a meaningless kiss –was unacceptable.

“Jörmungandr, come here,” he called in a soft voice, holding out his hand. Jörmungandr clung to Hlin, staring at him with dark, sullen eyes. “Jörmungandr, do not make me repeat myself.”

Hlin looked down at Jörmungandr and said, “Do what your father says my prince, it’s all right.”

Jörmungandr did not move for a long moment, then edged towards Loki and grudgingly took his hand. Loki pulled him to his side, putting his arm around his son and resting his hand across Jörmungandr’s chest.

“Hlin, I want you to leave.”

“What?” Hlin gasped, her eyes widening.

“I want you gone –out of the palace, out of my family’s life. You’ve done nothing but disrupt it since the day I hired you.”

“No!” Jörmungandr tried to run to her but Loki held him back.

“I’ve done nothing!” Hlin said, voice catching and her eyes, those big doe eyes that had looked up at him with innocent charm, were wet with tears. “I –I served, I did nothing wrong!”

“Get out Hlin,” said Loki without inflection. “You are dismissed.”

Hlin looked like she wanted to scream at him, then she looked at Jörmungandr, struggling against Loki’s hold, and her expression melted, tears falling down her face.

“I’m so sorry my prince,” she murmured, then turned and walked out. Jörmungandr threw his weight against Loki’s grip, shrieking,

“No! Hlin! Come back Hlin!”

The main door shut with a resounding crack and Loki let Jörmungandr go. Jörmungandr ran to the door, but he could not open it, he was still too small. Loki watched his son struggle with a strange sense of detachment, knowing that this was all for the best. When Jörmungandr sagged from exhaustion, Loki went and picked him up. Jörmungandr screeched and struggled,

“No! Noooo! I want Hlin! I want my Hlin!”

Loki ignored him and put him to bed, overpowering his small son and tucking him in before speaking,

“Listen to me Jörmungandr. This is for the best, you’ll see that when you meet your mother and realise just how much she loves you –Hlin doesn’t love you like Sigyn does.”

“Don’t care! Want Hlin!”

“Hlin is gone now and she won’t come back,” said Loki firmly. He knew Jörmungandr would get over it, he would understand and maybe even scoff at his own silly thinking, just as Loki did. Hlin was nothing compared to Sigyn.

Jörmungandr began to cry, burying his face in his pillows, “I want Hlin! I want my Hlin!”

Sighing, Loki reached out and stroked Jörmungandr’s back, shushing and soothing, and telling him how much Sigyn loved him. Jörmungandr eventually cried himself to sleep, and Loki was left feeling oddly hollow. It was a shame to lose Hlin, she was a competent nurse, but Loki would not allow her to take Sigyn’s place in his son’s lives anymore. Sigyn would meet their sons and Jörmungandr would instantly understand, the way Loki understood, that Sigyn was the only mother he could ever want.

It would be fine, he told himself, sitting by his son and playing with his hair. Everything would be fine.

**~*~**

“You did what?”

Loki sighed as his mother turned blazing eyes on him.

“I removed Hlin from my service, she was no longer suitable.”

“Why not? I thought you liked her,” she turned to Jörmungandr who was red eyed and sniffling, prodding at his breakfast. “I thought the boys loved her.”

“I didn’t like her attitude to certain things, and I must do what’s best for them.”

Frigga narrowed her eyes at him, and Loki pointedly ignored her until she spoke again,

“Has this anything to do with what happened last night?”

“Partially,” said Loki, seeing no reason to lie.

“Did it have anything to do with what happened at the end of your trip?”

“Not really, although she could have done better with her attitude about it.”

“Really? Her attitude?”

Loki looked up at his mother, feeling his anger, which always seemed to be close to the surface these days, starting to bubble up.

“If you have something to say to me mother-”

Frigga turned and rested her hand on Jörmungandr’s shoulder, “My love, will you go with Fulla and see if you can find my yellow ribbon? I forgot to bring it with me.”

Jörmungandr gave Loki an anxious look, then clambered down from the table and held out his hand for Fulla to take. Loki watched him go with a familiar pang of anxiety, and set down his cutlery.

“All right mother, say whatever you want to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

That had not been what he had expected and he blinked at her in confusion. Frigga watched him with steely eyes as she continued,

“I’m sorry things have not worked the way you want them to –I’m sorry Sigyn won’t see you, I’m sorry you felt betrayed by your father and me so often before, that Thor did not act as a proper brother to you, and I’m sorry that you’ve had to take on a role you didn’t want.”

“Well… thank you,” said Loki, sensing a trap and as Frigga drew in a deep breath, he knew it was about to close.

“I’m also sorry that you seem unable to deal with real people anymore –It hurts to think that I helped lead you down that path.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve let fantasy take the place of reality Loki, and when reality intrudes, you drive it away. You’ve always done that, but I never thought it was this bad.”

“How dare-”

“I know it hurts when your dreams, your hopes, don’t work out the way you wanted them to. I can easily guess that you dreamed of some scenario where Sigyn was untouched by the passage of time and she would happily fall into your arms and hold the boys and you’d all be a happy family as easily as the flowing of a river downhill.”

Loki flushed slightly, opening his mouth but Frigga cut across him,

“But this is the problem Loki! You cannot expect everyone around you to feel the way you do –perhaps you’re excited to have Sigyn back, but Jörmungandr does not know her, she’s as real to him as a fictional character in a fable. Hlin is real, she has cared for him, played with him, loved him for three years. Of course he wants to be around her, of course he views her as a mother-”

“Sigyn is his mother!” hissed Loki furiously.

“Not to him! He doesn’t know her, and it’s all very well for you to praise her, but she was your everything, while she’s nothing to Jörmungandr.”

“He will understand once he sees her!”

“You don’t know that –in fact, if you would just stop and think for a moment, you would know that’s impossible! He’s a child, for all he may be eight years in life (or over a thousand as you count it) he is still only five in mind and body. Can you honestly say you would be excited to meet some stranger, one your father prattles on about but for whom you feel nothing? For all I know, Jörmungandr may even fear her!”

“Fear her? Why would he fear her?”

“Because, if you’ve talked about how brilliant she is, how loving and how much you miss her –for all you know Jörmungandr has been dreading the day she comes back because she might take you away.”

Loki scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Loki, it’s exactly what a child would think. When you were born, Thor spent a few weeks uneasy about whether or not you would steal your father and I from him.”

“Ha! As if Odin would ever pick the runt over-”

“That’s not the point!” snapped Frigga, “My point is, whenever I’ve talked to Jörmungandr about Sigyn –and yes I have because I want you to be a happy family too! –he has never shown anything but unease about her.”

“He calls her Mama–he draws her in pictures, you can’t say-”

“He also draws Angrboda, he calls Angrboda Mama, and he knows she’s not a good topic –he sees them as the same sort of issue. Distant and unnerving.”

“This is ridiculous! He would have told me-”

“If he’s afraid of upsetting you, he won’t. Children don’t like to upset their parents, they don’t always understand at Jörmungandr’s age that love is not conditional –you certainly didn’t. Don’t you remember the time you broke my favourite vase when you were his age?”

“No,” said Loki, although it did ring a bell.

“You broke it because you were running around my chambers pretending you were a bird, and you smashed it. You hid it under the nearest couch and then hid under your bed. When I found you, you begged me not to send you away, and asked if I still loved you.”

Loki turned his face away, sneering at his younger self. Frigga grabbed his chin and made him look at her,

“Hlin is a good nurse, she loves those boys. Yes, it was foolish of her to let her affection for you grow, and you were foolish to nurse your own feelings, but you are both adults, not adolescents, and this is not how adults behave.”

“She should have gotten over it-”

“You never get over your first experience of love,” said Frigga sadly, “I certainly didn’t.”

“Wait –you loved someone before father?”

Frigga snorted and let his chin go, “Norns below Loki, I was a fully grown adult woman when I married your father! Of course I loved before him, I loved passionately, stupidly, more than one man, before I met your father –even after it took time for my feelings towards Odin to become truly love.”

Loki shifted, prodding at his plate with his finger, “Well, what a waste of your time. I only ever loved and needed to love one woman.”

Frigga sighed, “I fear it has had consequences you don’t see.”

“Like what?” sneered Loki, “Being happy? Wanting a family with her? Refusing to let you and Odin, Skadi and Njordr and Thor stand in my way?”

“Do you really think Thor would have stood in your way if he’d known?”

“Of course, he always had to get everything, he expected to get Sigyn regardless of her desires, so why would he care about mine.”

“I think if you had told Thor the truth, he would have been pleased for you, and probably a bit relieved. As beautiful as he found her, he knew they had nothing in common.”

“Didn’t stop him from talking about her like she was a piece of meat,” growled Loki, flushing hot at the memory of some of Thor’s comments, him and the rest of his sycophantic friends. “Did you know they once passed a drunken hour trying to find two stones that were the weight they imagined her breasts would be in their hands? It was all I could do not to challenge them all to duels and seal their mouths shut with my magic!”

“I’m afraid that is simply what boys and men do,” sighed Frigga.

“Why? I don’t do it! I never have!”

“Oh Loki, it’s not as if women don’t have the exact same conversations about men! It’s natural to eye each other up and make jokes, to objectify that what you desire a little, but for the most part it is within reason. Your brother would never be so crude or disrespectful to Sigyn directly.”

“No, better to do it behind her back, the pig,” growled Loki.

Frigga gave a loud, angry sigh, “Very well Loki, I see you will not be moved. You are determined to see the absolute worst in all of us. So go ahead, insist that Odin and I only ever saw you as a tool, never mind how much we loved and worried over you all your life. Presume the worst of your brother, who only ever wanted your happiness when you deigned to let him see a glimpse of your honest desires. Be outraged that a woman dare fall in love with you and then hurt when that love is rejected so cruelly as you did, betraying not only a newborn hope, but a friendship that you had helped forge. Be indignant that your son has his own thoughts and feelings and not just the ones you want him to have, go on! Continue down this path of assuming everyone is against you, and no one will understand your feelings, no one will respect them, and see how far you fall!”

Frigga slammed her hands on the table as she rose to her feet, a fire in her eyes that was so like Thor’s that Loki’s breath caught in his throat. But Frigga was not done,

“Have you even considered the fact that Sigyn will not be the same as she was before –billions of people are dead Loki! She has watched her people suffer and she was forced to lead them to victory. No one comes out of something like that unscathed!”

“Of course I know that,” said Loki, but his voice did not sound terribly convincing to his own ears. Frigga shook her head, looking frustrated and disappointed,

“I don’t think you do, not really. You may find that she has no interest in you, not when she has other things on her mind-”

“No. Of course she will, we’re married-”

“Your marriage is not more important than the billions of people who have been devastated Loki! Your dream of a perfect family is not more important than your son’s happiness!”

“What do you know of providing a son happiness?” snarled Loki, now on his feet too.

“I know pretending everything will be fine doesn’t work, because I see what it did to you!” Frigga barked, then reeled back, saying softly, “Do not make the same mistake we did Loki.”

Loki swallowed, dragging his hands over his face, then muttered,

“I needed a friend, and she took advantage of that. I… I should have been stronger –but I needed her to respect the boundary. She did not do that.”

Frigga reached out and clasped his elbow. “I know you want the companionship, I know you wanted the comfort she offered, but sometimes you cannot have that and not find things becoming less platonic. You made a mistake, you let yourself feel something that is perfectly understandable-”

“Is it? I could not last three years without feeling desire for another woman. Sigyn waited forty years for me to be ready to be with her fully. What does that say about me?”

Frigga dug her fingers into his elbow, “I think how you deal with things now will say an awful lot more.”

Loki swallowed and pulled away from her. He crossed to the window and peered out at the city, arms around his stomach.

“I can’t have Hlin standing in for the boys’ mother, it would cause too much pain.”

Frigga stepped closer, although she still kept her distance.

“I understand your fear, but even if Sigyn came here now, and everything was as you wished it, love does not always come easy. Jörmungandr will need time to get to know her, and no amount of your storytelling will push that –and may harm your cause.”

Loki inhaled deeply then looked at Frigga with narrowed eyes,

“You want me to bring Hlin back.”

“Yes. But you must make peace with her –not just bring her back. For the sake of the boys, try to work something out.”

“You want me to grovel to her?” spat Loki.

“No, I want you to talk to her,” said Frigga spreading her hands, “Surely my silver-tongue son is capable of having a conversation with a young woman who is nursing a hurt heart.”

Loki swallowed and held himself tighter, frowning out at the city, “Silver-tongue. Is that really me anymore?”

Frigga finally touched his arm and gave it a light squeeze, “I know these past years have been hard on you –but you are still Loki, you are still you, no matter your role, as king, father, son, or brother. You are still Loki.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” said Loki quietly. Frigga rested her head on his shoulder, pressing on him for a moment in a kind of hug. They stood for a moment, Loki leaning into his mother’s warmth, then finally he straightened up and said, “I’ll have Hlin brought to me, and we’ll see if we can’t come to an understanding.”

Frigga smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

**~*~**

The decorating of the king’s study was a visible representation of the awkward transition Asgard was going through at the moment. It had been Odin’s, but since the Pig’s Rebellion, Loki had started adding his own touches. It was now an awkward mix of Odin’s weapons, pelts and golden ornaments, and Loki’s books, paintings and phials of potions. Loki did some paperwork while he waited for Hlin to arrive. His head was aching and it occurred to him that he had not really eaten anything at breakfast. Sverrir would not be pleased. There was a soft knock on the door and he sighed, setting down his pen and dragging his hand over his face.

“Come in,” he called. The door swung open and Hlin came in. She was pale and puffy eyed, and looked a lot younger than Loki was used to. Her hair was down and covering her face, reminding Loki of the first real interactions he had had with her.

“Hlin, sit,” he said in a measured voice. Hlin sank into the seat across from him and peered at the space around his shoulder. Loki regarded her, trying to decide how to start this conversation. He would not apologise, he couldn’t. Finally he said,

“I think it would be best if I reconsidered my decision regarding your employment.”

Hlin’s throat convulsed and her eyes met his for a long moment, then she looked at her knees.

“It was… perhaps a bit hasty of me, to dismiss you –and I was a bit… carried away,” Loki admitted, wishing she would speak. “You have to understand-”

“Why?” whispered Hlin. Loki blinked.

“What?”

“Why would you think I’ve spoken against the princess? Why would you think I’d ever do such a thing? Especially when you consider her the princes’ mother?”

Loki stared at her, frowning as he tried to understand just what she was saying. “What-?”

“Prince Jörmungandr is only a small boy –he doesn’t know how to keep a secret,” said Hlin finally looking up at him, her fringe falling in front of her eyes. “He tells me the stories you tell him about her.”

“Then –you’ve known?”

“Yes, I’ve known.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” demanded Loki, his hands twitching on the arms of his chairs.

“Because it was not my place.”

“But then –if you know about her, why the hell did you kiss me?” he snapped.

Hlin swallowed and pressed her hands together, and Loki was reminded of Jörmungandr when he knew he was in trouble.

“Because I thought –I thought she was dead and you had been grieving for her.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, feeling his temper rising. “So you decided to kiss me to interrupt my grief?”

“No! I thought you were ready to move forward, I thought you were starting to –I thought using both our faces for your own pleasure meant you were ready to start thinking about other women and I might have been the one!”

A sense of numbness flooded through Loki that nearly robbed him of his voice, but he managed to growl, “Say that again!”

Hlin flinched and drew backwards, “I –I heard a noise and I thought something was wrong, so I went to check on you and I saw –I saw what you were doing.” Colour flooded her face and she sniffed hard, drawing herself up, “You told me it was disrespectful to use illusions that way without the person’s permission.”

Loki’s jaw worked furiously, his teeth grinding together. He wanted to scream at her, furious and humiliated at her invasion of his privacy. What he had thought had been his one real way to feel connected to his wife had been invaded. Yet something held him back, maybe it was the way Hlin had looked at him when she reminded him of his own lessons in illusions. As much as it galled him, she was right. It was considered wrong to misuse illusions, but that didn’t change his own anger.

“Regardless, we’re not here to talk about that.”

“Then what? I thought you wanted me, that was why you brought me to the opera, danced with me, held me like you did. Why you looked at me the way you did –I am not so naïve that I don’t recognise what those looks meant! What was I meant to think?”

Loki swallowed hard, anger and resentment burning inside him. He wanted to hate this woman who had distracted him from his wife, who he had looked at and fantasised about. He certainly hated his own weakness.

“Did you think you could replace her? That you would be even half the woman she is to me?” he spat.

Hlin flushed, “I never sought to replace her, I would never dream of it. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to become more to you –and you let me think I could!”

“I never wanted to!” snarled Loki, “I never wanted to feel anything for you!”

Hlin’s colour faded and she licked her lips, her expression changing from uneasy to something softer, “But you did. You know you did.”

“So what? You’re the one who acted on it,” said Loki.

“Yes –but I thought you wanted me to,” she said softly peering up at him through her fringe. “The way you held me that night, smiled at me… it was the way I wanted to be held.”

The quiet sadness in her tone seemed to douse Loki’s anger and it started to slip away, despite his efforts to cling to it. He turned his face away from Hlin.

“Well… regardless. It’s not an option. It never was –I should have put a stop to it long before. I thought I had.”

“And I accepted that at the time, but… it was different the second time around. What I felt then and what I felt… what I feel now is not the same. No matter how hard you tried to maintain a distance and a protective wall around yourself, we spent every day together for three years. I know you now, and you know me. What grew between us –it wasn’t just something I dreamt up,” said Hlin with an almost gentle tone.

“I had no intention of acting on it,” Loki muttered, squeezing his hands tight on his lap. Hlin sighed softly,

“I know, I knew it then –I just lost myself in the moment that night. Too much drink, too much… you.”

Loki nodded, his mind flashing back to that night and how good Hlin’s lips had felt on his. Shame, desire and self-loathing settled low in his stomach as he admitted to himself that he had failed in his own vows to his wife. He might have stopped things before they went too far, but he had not wanted to. He had wanted to go on, to lay Hlin on his bed and consume everything she offered to him. He had wanted to know the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin, the heat of her sex. A part of him still wanted that. What did it say of him that his wife could wait for forty years for him, and he could not wait four?

“Loki?”

Loki blinked and found Hlin crouched next to him, looking up at him with tender concern. He reached out and brushed her fringe from her face, then his hand skimmed down to touch her lips with his thumb. She swallowed and reached up, brushing away a tear from his face and he wondered when he had started crying. Hlin lowered her hand and took his own, easing it from her face and holding it. They were quiet for a moment, Loki enjoying the warmth of the contact. Finally the urge to speak was too great and he said,

“Do you know how long it was after the boys were born that I was able to face the idea of sex again?”

Hlin looked up at him, her eyes warm and curious. Loki swallowed and continued,

“It was forty years. Forty years of going forward and falling back, forty years of anger and resentment and frustration –and Sigyn bore it all. She waited and waited, she guided me and loved me, and… and I couldn’t make it four years without looking at you.” He gave a disgusted snort, “I’m no better than the men who take their pleasures without regard for their wives.”

To his surprise, Hlin giggled.

“Oh, my king, you are not so terrible. The fact that you feel this way is proof enough. Yet –may I ask, in those forty years, were you apart from your wife all that time? Did you have no contact, no words between you?”

“No, I just told you, she was with me, she helped me.”

“Then that’s the difference.”

Loki furrowed his brow, “Meaning?”

“Meaning I don’t believe you can compare being at your side while you worked to get better to being alone without her.”

“It doesn’t change what I did –what I felt.”

Hlin shrugged, “Maybe not, but it’s not the same.”

Loki wondered why Hlin was suddenly being so kind to him. Maybe she just wanted her job back.

“So what now?” he asked quietly, trying to ignore how good the warmth of her hand felt.

Hlin gave him a weak smile, “I would love to go back to my duties, I already miss my charges.”

Loki fixed her with a suspicious glare, “Is that why you’re being like this? So kind, so sweet? To get your job back?”

Hlin’s eyes darkened and she let go of Loki’s hand. “No. I just have no interest in continuing this conflict. After all, who will it benefit?”

“No one is that forgiving!”

Hlin straightened up and folded her arms across her chest,

“Just because you hold a grudge over every slight, big and small, does not mean the rest of us do. I would rather forgive and move forward than stew in my own bitter feelings. I would rather do what I must to make myself happy, if that means putting my feelings for you aside and relearning to view you as my king and employer, I will do that. Why waste my life hating and resenting and assuming the worst of everyone –has it done you any good?”

Loki swallowed and looked away, his hands curling into fists. First his mother, now Hlin. Did none of them understand that he did not do this because he wanted to? It was just how it was. He was entitled to be angry at the hand the Norns had dealt him –never mind the _blessings_ of his biological mother and grandmother. His whole existence was for the benefit of others. He would not allow the same to happen to his sons –which meant that his sons’ happiness must come first. Loki drew in a deep, heavy breath.

“You will make it clear to Jörmungandr that you are not his mother, do you understand?” he commanded.

“Yes, my king,” said Hlin quietly.

A part of Loki wanted to offer her the chance to be his student again, because he had enjoyed teaching her. However, it seemed too much of a concession at the moment and he did not trust her or himself right now. He waved his hand at Hlin, turning away from her.

“You may go back to your work,” he whispered.

Hlin curtsied to him and murmured her thanks before leaving him alone. Loki stood up and surveyed the room. Gungnir, no longer golden but beautiful wood, revolved slowly on the stand it rested in. Loki watched it, stewing over everything.

“Well mother, you, Hlin and Jörmungandr all got your way,” he growled to the room. Bitterness welled inside him; his whole being was now about pleasing others, the people at large, his family in private –when would he get what he wanted? It surely was not so much to want a happy, whole family and to be free of this responsibility that he had never sought.

Loki felt as if he was being devoured by his two primary roles; king and father. What would be left of him at the end but a body running on autopilot, the mind lost and forgotten? His people did not care if he was happy so long as they were happy, and neither did his sons. Now he was not sure if even Sigyn cared anymore. He told himself that if Sigyn’s situation was as he had been told, then his mother was right. Sigyn had more important things to worry about. That did not stop Loki from burning with resentment. He had the highest position in the Nine Realms, but he had never felt less important.

Snarling, Loki seized the nearest golden ornament and threw it at the wall, where it shattered into pieces.


	13. Return to Vanaheim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it's been a tough few months.

**Chapter 13 –Return to Vanaheim**

Aetril sipped her tea as Loki explained what he thought was relevant about Vanaheim’s return. She had not said a word, though her lips twitched when Loki mentioned that Sigyn had killed Malekith. When Loki was done, she set down the cup, and sat forward, her elbows on her knees.

“What do you plan to do?”

Loki glanced at his mother in confusion, then said,

“Do?”

“How do you plan on aiding Vanaheim? What do you plan to offer them? Food? Manpower? Technology?”

“I –I had not yet decided the details,” Loki lied. He had not even considered it.

“As I understand it, Asgard has never had a vast surplus of food, so perhaps it would be better if Alfheim did that, and you could supply workers to help them rebuild.”

Loki stared at Aetril as her wings fluttered so hard she rose into the air and started moving around, in a Ljosalf equivalent of pacing, wringing her small hands as she did so.

“I’ll need to tell my children, oh Berach will be devastated when he hears this.”

“Why?” asked Loki shortly. Berach, Aetril’s eldest son, had become another rival for Sigyn’s hand before Vanaheim had disappeared. Aetril paused and looked at him with an expression of irritation.

“Because Sigyn is as dear to him as if she were his own daughter, I can only imagine how worried he’s been about her.”

Loki wanted to ask how Aetril could claim such when she and Berach had schemed to divide Sigyn and Loki between them, but her angry expression made him feel annoyingly young as it was.

“Did Ljúfvina tell you if the survivors have gathered in one part of the planet? Is it winter or summer where they are? My life, I can’t even begin to imagine what they have lost, what they will need.” She wrung her hands again, her pretty face creased with deep lines of anxiety. “The war between my people and Malekith did not have nearly so many casualties –what was that monster thinking? He never used to be so vicious, so pointlessly cruel. Why kill so many? He wanted to control them, not eradicate them.”

“In all likelihood the Vanir refused the former so he felt compelled to do the latter,” said Frigga, she sounded rather ill.

“Oh Frigga,” Aetril fluttered over to her and set herself on her feet, “Your family, did Ljúfvina say anything about them?”

Frigga gave Aetril a bracing smile,

“I had no family left in Vanaheim, none I knew of at any rate. So I must only grieve the terrible suffering on my home planet as a wider concept.”

Loki looked at the two women, frowning. He had not even remembered that his mother might have family on Vanaheim. He rubbed at his brow, feeling ill.

“When will we be going to Vanaheim?” asked Aetril.

“A week, supposedly with Jötunheim and Nidavellir,” said Loki dully.

“I will have my children draft an official offer of assistance in time for it,” said Aetril. She seemed much more upset than Loki had expected her to be. After all, she was a queen of a (sometimes) rival realm. Then again, he supposed, Aetril had seen devastation before, so perhaps she had a better grasp than he about what it actually meant.

**~*~**

Somehow explaining the situation over and over seemed to press upon Loki exactly what he was saying. The weight of the words ‘billions dead’ was heavier each time he uttered it, watching as the faces of his council members grow paler and more appalled. Dag excused himself and ran from the room, hand over his mouth, and returned a few minutes later with the tangy smell of vomit around him.

“So… what now?” asked Sverrir, looking at Loki as if afraid of what he might say.

“Queen Aetril is preparing an official offer of aid. We should do the same,” said Loki, his voice sounding rather hollow to his own ears. All he wanted to do was get to Vanaheim and see Sigyn, know she was alive and have her warm in his arms. Yet the longer he thought about it, the less it seemed likely. After all, he did not think he was the same as he had been three years ago, so maybe Sigyn would not be either. It hurt to imagine it so, but his mother’s words were sticking to him like mud.

They followed him to bed.

He dreamed he was walking through the Blue Forest, the place he had fled to when Fenrir was struggling to be born. As he walked, his hands reached for the trees, but every one burst into dust under his fingertips. Panic filled him as he started to run, calling for Sigyn, and now fire was licking his ankles.

“Sigyn! Sigyn!”

He saw a flash of purple and turned towards it. Sigyn was in front of him, running away, her purple dress from the Ostara festival trailing behind her. He chased her, calling for her, but she did not seem to hear him. The forest was burning, thick smoke stinging his eyes, and the flames casting shadows. If Sigyn didn’t stop, if he couldn’t catch her, they would die here.

“Sigyn wait! Please!”

Trees fell, and they started to block his path, block Sigyn, but she climbed over them, even as they piled up, forcing Loki to scramble and climb up the growing mountain. The trees felt oddly soft under his hand, and the leaves felt stringy, but he could not take his eyes off Sigyn’s back. She climbed and climbed and Loki’s hand grabbed something squishy. He looked and shouted in fright. He’d grabbed the face of a dead man, and his other hand was gripping the leg of a dead woman. The trees had turned into bodies, a mountain of death that Loki was trying to climb, to catch Sigyn –her sobbing breaths loud in his ears even as she got further and further ahead of him.

He had to catch her. If he didn’t, terrible things would happen, he just knew it. He climbed up the pile, calling to her and then –they were on a cliff, looking over an ocean of bodies. It moved just like an ocean, but Loki could see the flailing of limbs that betrayed it in the smoke coated air. He looked around. Sigyn was standing on the cliff’s edge, staring out at the ocean with horror filled eyes. Her face was bruised and cut, and her hair was stained black with blood. On her head was a crown of bone, with sinew clinging to it, dripping blood onto her face.

“Sigyn!” Loki cried, reaching for her but she flinched away, teetering on the edge. “Sigyn –don’t!”

Sigyn stared at him, pale, bloodied and horrified. Then, she spoke,

“I cannot be so selfish anymore. I won’t be. I can be better than that.”

She spread her arms and started to tilt back.

“Sigyn!” screamed Loki, reaching for her, but she slipped through his fingers like smoke.

“SIGYN!” Loki woke up, his hand outstretched to the ceiling. He could hear his heart pounding in his eardrums, and he dropped his hand, forcing himself to breathe. He sat up and threw off his blankets, walking out of his bedroom and into Jörmungandr’s. His son was sleeping peacefully, his breathing soft but audible in the dark room. Loki crossed the room and dropped to his knees next to the bed. He reached out and rested his hand on the small chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of Jörmungandr’s heart. It was unusually slow for his age and size, but Eir had determined that it was simply Jörmungandr’s natural rate. Feeling it calmed Loki’s own heartbeat as his dream started to fade and after a few minutes he could only remember that he had failed to reach Sigyn.

It wouldn’t be like that in reality, he promised himself. When he saw Sigyn he would make sure she knew he was never going to abandon her.

**~*~**

It was the slowest week of Loki’s life. Jörmungandr had been thrilled to get Hlin back, but he kept throwing Loki mistrustful looks, as if expecting him to fire Hlin again at any moment. Loki did not know how to explain himself to his son, so he tried to be calm and gentle around his family, hoping that it would all be forgotten –not that he had much hope. Jörmungandr was proving to be just like Loki when it came to holding a grudge. Still, he asked Loki to tell him bedtime stories each night, so that was something.

The council had drafted an open-ended offer of assistance to Vanaheim, until they knew exactly what was going on and what needed to be done, there was no point in being too specific. Queen Aetril spent much of her time holed away in the communication room with her children. Frigga too was very preoccupied, she wanted to go with Loki to Vanaheim, but Loki refused.

“I need you here. I know you want to go and see what’s happened, but I need to know the boys and Asgard are safe with you if I’m going to give this situation my full attention.”

Frigga looked so mutinous for a second that Loki thought she would yell at him. Then she sighed and dipped her head,

“You’re right, I will do as you ask.” Her hands trembled as she grabbed his arm, “Loki…”

Loki put his arms around his mother, and held her close, “I know.”

**~*~**

The day came at last and Loki was trying not to fidget with his helmet as he waited at the observatory with Queen Aetril to be taken to Vanaheim. Heimdall was standing with Frigga, the two of them grave faced as they watched them. Aetril’s wings fluttered with anxiety. Loki knew she was torn between excitement, as she would finally see her children and go home, and her fear of what they were about to find on Vanaheim. Loki’s stomach was a knot of anxiety. He just wanted to get this done.

“Loki, remember what we talked about,” said Frigga quietly. Loki nodded, not really listening, as a faint shimmer appeared in the mouth of the observatory. Purple and green, with sparks of red flickered before them, before twisting and opening into a mouth. It was utterly silent and almost… seductive the way it swirled and twisted, almost beckoning to Loki. He drew in a deep breath to steady himself.

Sigyn was on the other side of that portal.

Aetril’s hand brushed his as she looked up at him. He nodded and together they stepped forward. As their toes brushed the event horizon, Loki felt a huge tug somewhere around his navel and they tumbled forward. Stars streaked past his vision and –oh! He had forgotten the rush of travelling through space like this. It was glorious!

They landed softly, both managing to keep their feet. Before Loki could blink his vision clear, he heard a male voice cry,

“Mathair!”

“Berach!” shrieked Aetril and Loki’s vision cleared just in time to see Berach sweep his mother into his arms and squeeze her tight. Loki stepped back slightly, feeling awkward and his eyes fell on a small dverger, a female one, standing nearby. She bowed to Loki,

“I am Fullangr, ambassador of King Andvari, your majesty.”

“What happened to Brokkr?” asked Loki.

Fullangr scowled, “Dead. He stole from my king and was rewarded with death –I only wish it could have been the king who had delivered the blow.”

Loki blinked, both delighted by this news and irritated. He would have liked to kill Brokkr himself, but he supposed Brokkr was with Hela now, so she would make sure he suffered on Loki’s behalf. Aetril was kissing her son’s cheeks and they were conversing in low whispers, still clinging to each other. It made Loki ache slightly, Aetril had gotten her reunion, would he get his? He looked away and up. They were in a small circular room, cold metal and very basic looking. A single man was standing by what must have been the control panel. It was hardly much of an aesthetic wonder like the Bifröst. Turning his head, Loki gave a start,

“What is that doing here?” he hissed.

Across from himself, Fullangr and the Ljosalfar, a tall, slim man with tattoos all over his face and hands stood flanked by two heavily armed Vanir. The dökkálfr seemed to be doing his best to shrink into himself, a mulish expression on his face.

“I’m more interested in that guest,” said Fullangr, pointing to the right of Berach and Aetril. A jötunn glowered at Loki, his expression twisted and full of malice. “I did not realise Vanaheim would extend an invitation to Jötunheim.”

Before Loki could reply, a flash of light blinded him for a moment, and when his vision settled again, he saw a demon standing among them. He recognised the demon as General Sina, the same ambassador that had visited Asgard for the Ostara festival. This arrival broke apart Aetril and Berach and they looked around. At the same time the room’s walls and roof split in two, disappearing into the ground, along with the console, exposing them to the air. Aetril gasped and her hands flew to her mouth.

“Oh –oh my…”

Loki turned around and his stomach dropped. All his life, he had always associated Vanaheim with lush rainforest, greens, purples and reds all around him. What lay before him was total destruction. They were standing on a hilltop outside a city, or rather, what was left of a city. There were ruins everywhere, it must have been bombed from above to wreak this much damage. The city bore signs of being cleared and repairs begun, but there was no mistaking that it had recently been devastated. And beyond the city, all was black and brown.

“You!” Loki bellowed at the dökkálfr, who jumped and looked at him with a nervous, narrow-eyed expression as Loki advanced on him. “This –you did this!”

“Aiteann…” hissed Berach, stepping towards the dökkálfr, but the Vanir guards stepped forward and blocked them both.

“Please,” called a female voice. Loki looked towards the city again. Three hoverboats had drifted up to them, and Ljufvina stepped off the first one, with her arms spread in welcome.

“Please,” she said again, “My queen has no desire for conflict among you. She’s invited all of you for a reason, so come.” She pointed at the boats and said, “King Loki, if you would please ride with Dowager Queen Farbauti and Fullangr.”

Loki’s head snapped around to stare at the Frost Giant. It was a female? How was he supposed to tell –wait, Dowager Queen? Loki stared at her in open shock. This was Laufey’s widow, the mother of his younger sons. It had never occurred to him that she might be alive.

Farbauti gave Loki a look that suggested she thought him a bug to be crushed, but she simply stepped gracefully forward and climbed into the boat. Loki followed, trying to understand what anyone was thinking putting them in the same craft. Thankfully, Fullangr sat between them. Berach and Aetril took the boat with Sina, and the dökkálfr was put into a boat with his guard. Ljúfvina hopped into the boat with Loki, Farbauti and Fullangr and perched next to the driver.

“To the palace,” she said cheerfully.

The boats lifted up a little into the air and zoomed down the hill, towards the city. Loki peered around trying to take in the sheer scale of the devastation. It was like looking at a terrible wound that had recently been tended to. It was clean, but awful.

“I haven’t seen destruction like this since the end of the war,” growled Farbauti. Loki swallowed, keenly aware of her gaze on his back and the fact that he was currently holding her son prisoner.

“You said we’re going to the palace –but I see no such thing,” said Fullangr to Ljúfvina. Loki looked at Ljúfvina who smirked and pointed,

“See there!”

They all looked where she was pointing. The city was nestled in between several hills, and built into the largest hill was a large house. It was oddly shaped, round and flat, but it still had a grandness to it that suggested it was an important building. Loki did not recognise it.

“Where exactly are we?” he asked.

“We’re in the south-west, this area was one of the least damaged parts of the planet, Malekith targeted the east and north, because that was where much of Njordr and Skadi’s power was based. You’d never have come here because the grander palaces were always in the east.”

Loki said nothing to this, he did not really want to hear more about the suffering of this realm, not now when he needed to keep his head. He was about to see Sigyn, after four long years of missing her, and learning what she had been through, and he was suddenly terrified. What would he say? What would he do? Stupidly he had not considered what would happen when he finally got to this moment. He felt woefully unprepared.

By the time they reached the bizarrely shaped palace Loki’s breathing had quickened to the point of hyperventilation, though he tried to conceal it from the other monarchs. The last thing he needed was these people seeing him have a nervous breakdown. Ljúfvina jumped down from the boat and beckoned to them.

“Please come, my mistress is waiting for you.”

Loki swallowed against a dry mouth and followed Ljúfvina, practically clipping at her heels.

The palace was not exactly impressive, the short and squat nature of it continued inside, and it had obviously suffered from smoke damage to the walls and floor. It seemed that the Vanir had done their best to clean it and make it beautiful again and it made Loki feel rather awkward, thinking of his own palace and how easy it had been to repair the damage done to it after the rebellion. Even the servants who paused to bow to the arriving people were wearing normal clothes that seemed to have been patched, rather than any sort of uniform. Despite all attempts to conceal it, there was an uncomfortable sense of poverty, or perhaps more accurately a sense that whatever money that existed had gone into the basics rather than luxuries. What was that like, to have to consider every purchase and decide on what was more vital to buy? It was a concept Loki had never had to deal with, and neither had Sigyn. How had she managed to cope with it?

They went down the hall, and Loki could smell incense, so thick and heavy that, by the time they reached the door, he felt rather dazed. Ljúfvina stopped at the huge doors etched with woodland images. She lifted her fist and knocked hard, three booming knocks. The doors swung open and Ljúfvina led them into a hall. It was strangely dark, lit with torches and candles, and the incense was thicker than ever. It was like stepping into a dream, gauzy materials fluttered everywhere, shadows and highlights shimmering around them as they stepped inside. Loki peered through the haze, eyes straining to see beyond the trappings, but the shadows dancing about them made it hard to see.

The doors shut behind them and Ljúfvina led them up the hall, towards a sculpture of a great tree. It was several steps before Loki realised that it was not just a sculpture, but a great throne. The branches stretched up to the ceiling and the roots spread across the floor. Seated in the trunk was a tall figure, with wild hair that was teased high and fell around her like a cape, and as they got closer Loki could see it was full of colours, streaked with white, auburn, grey-blue, brunette, like a great lion’s mane, entwined in a glittering crown of flowers. She wore beautiful silks of blue and purple, her long tanned legs bared from mid-thigh, her arms draped with soft gauze, and her skin was covered in markings, making her seem like a wild creature that was watching approaching prey.

Loki strained his eyes to see her face, but it was only when they reached the beginning of the roots of the throne that he was finally able to recognise her. Sigyn lifted her head and her amber eyes fixed on Loki’s face for a moment and Loki’s legs trembled, itching to fall to his knees before her. There was no comparison between this vision and last one he had had of her, bleeding, crying and broken. His breath caught in his chest and his blood warmed at once in his veins.

Then Sigyn looked away to cast her eyes over the other guests, her face expressionless as she took in the other monarchs and ambassadors. Ljúfvina knelt to Sigyn and proclaimed,

“I present to Queen Sigyn of Vanaheim, Ruler of the United Peoples of the Realm, Queen Aetril and Prince Berach of Alfheim, King Loki of Asgard, Dowager Queen Farbauti of Jötunheim, Ambassador General Sina from Muspelheim, Ambassador Fullangr of Nidavellir, and Enfys from Svartalfheim.”

Loki bent at the waist, just as the others did. It was hard to resist the urge to bow deeply, Sigyn was oozing power as she surveyed them all. There was a moment when no one said a word, Sigyn just regarded them all with a blank expression. Then she burst out laughing. The sound carried through the room, making Loki shiver with delight and feel an odd chill down his back. Sigyn clapped her hands together, making Enfys jump behind Loki.

“You all look so serious!” she laughed, throwing her arms out, “Welcome to Vanaheim my friends! It’s so good to see you all here.”

“Not as good as it is to see you my dear,” said Aetril promptly. She was clinging to Berach, but leaning forward as if she wanted nothing more than to run up the steps and embrace Sigyn. Sigyn’s smile became toothy, slightly dangerous and Loki felt that chill again.

“Hmm,” Sigyn purred, rising to her feet. “Well, I am so glad you’re all here, and I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in my home. Come, let us share a meal.”

She descended from the throne, and Loki noticed her feet were bare, but her hair made her taller than him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but Sigyn brushed past him without a second glance. Enfys dropped to a knee, looking frightened as Sigyn paused and looked down at him, purring.

“Enfys, so glad you could come.”

“I would come at any summons of my queen,” he murmured, his head down.

“Of course you would,” said Sigyn, turning on her heel and striding away. Loki stepped around Enfys, resisting the urge to stand on his fingers, just to hurt him, and followed Sigyn. It was almost surreal, like a dream, she was right in front of him, but he dared not speak and could not touch.

They entered a dining hall and sat around a rectangular table, with Sigyn at the head. Ljúfvina caught Loki’s eyes and pointed at the seat next to Sigyn, which he took with great satisfaction. He was less pleased to find Berach opposite him. The older man quirked an eyebrow at him, then turned to his mother who was sitting next to him and took her hand. Aetril squeezed his hand back, then turned her attention to Sigyn, who sat on a slightly raised seat that was grander than any of the guests’, with an expression of tranquillity that Loki had never seen on her before. This close to her, his wife looked different to what he remembered. Her face was angular, lacking the soft cheeks he recalled, her cheekbones more prominent, her chin more pointed. Her body was lean and muscular, like a harden warrior’s –she looked more like her mother than Loki had ever noticed before. Yet it was hard to really take her in, her clothes hair and painted skin were overwhelming and very difficult to see past.

Once everyone was seated, food appeared under their noses, and Loki looked away from Sigyn’s face to the food. It was rather simple looking, but smelled delicious.

“You must forgive the size of the portions,” said Sigyn with a note of laughter in her voice, “We have to be extremely cautious with our rationing, even for esteemed guests.”

“That’s not a problem,” said Berach brusquely. He was looking down the table at Enfys, who was still shrinking into himself, “I must admit… I did not expect to share the table with someone from Svartalfheim, considering.”

Enfys shrank even more into his seat as everyone looked around, which was an odd thing to see in a dökkálfr.

“Well, it’s not as if they’re a threat anymore,” said Sigyn with a broad grin, as if it was a joke, “My government and I saw no reason why Svartalfheim should be cut off from the rest of the universe for the bad choices of their leader.”

Loki frowned at the obvious dig at Asgard, then glanced at Farbauti. The dowager-queen was studying Sigyn thoughtfully as she continued,

“Besides, I have no interest in prolonging suffering on anyone’s part. I simply wish for us all to start working together in a genuine way, rather than pretending we do.”

“Pretending?” repeated General Sina, looking around the table, then back at Sigyn.

“I mean to say, let’s be honest, the realms aren’t exactly working in a harmonious way these days, are they? Jötunheim locked away inside itself to rot, Midgard forbidden for reasons only the Allfather can explain, Vanaheim in a limbo of false independence –it’s not as we would want things, is it?” said Sigyn in that same cheerful tone. There was an uncomfortable moment where no one spoke, then Sigyn said, “But there’s plenty of time for all of that, come, eat, it would be a crime to waste it.”

Loki had a feeling that last part was to be taken literally.

They ate in relative silence, Loki tried to catch Sigyn’s eyes, but she was focused entirely on cleaning her plate. When he met Berach’s he saw a matching sense of unease in the Ljósalfr’s pale eyes. Aetril ate one handed, her other hand remaining on her son’s arm as if to reassure her he was real. Next to Loki, Fullangr was stuffing her face with her people’s usual lack of manners. Farbauti’s gold ornaments tinkled softly with every move she made. Enfys looked like it was taking every bit of effort he had to eat, he seemed almost afraid of the food. Maybe he expected to be poisoned.

As the last scraps of food were being eaten, Sigyn spoke to Farbauti,

“Dowager-Queen, how are your sons?”

Loki winced and tried to catch Sigyn’s eye but she seemed oblivious to him as she smiled down the table at Farbauti. The jötunn stiffened her spine and said,

“My son-king is well, though he and I are both highly troubled by my youngest son’s absence.”

“Absence?” repeated Sigyn, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you know of Asgard’s recent activities, but we lost contact with Byleist three years ago, and I have no idea if he’s alive or dead,” said Farbauti in a cold, steady voice, her red eyes fixed on Loki’s face. Loki set his knife and fork down and said as calmly as he could,

“Your son is alive and well. However, I was forced by his actions to confine him to my palace, until contact could be made with Jötunheim.”

“Do you mean to say you have not had any contact with Jötunheim in three years?” asked Sigyn in a mildly curious voice. Loki drew in a deep breath and looked Sigyn in the eyes, hoping she would understand the weight of his words.

“Asgard’s Bifrost was destroyed in an attack three years ago, the explosion devastated all the interplanetary pathways, Asgard was cut off completely from the other realms. Until recently, even scrying was nearly impossible. In the –the chaos of everything, Prince Byleist stole the Casket of Ancient Winters and fled with it. He was unable to get back to Jötunheim, and we caught him a few weeks ago.”

There was silence around the table, then Farbauti growled,

“Have you tortured him?”

“No,” said Loki flatly. “I decided that I would reserve all judgements and actions until communication was restored.”

“Hmph! I should like to see that for myself,” said Farbauti.

“By all means, once our Bifrost is repaired-”

“Vanaheim could do it,” said Sigyn promptly, cutting across Loki. “We could transport you to Asgard Farbauti.”

Loki felt his hackles rise slightly at the idea of someone else being in charge of interplanetary contact. Asgard had always impressed upon the other realms that it was the only one who had a safe enough method. It had always been so, and now Sigyn was trying to take that away.

Loki gave himself a hard mental shake. What a stupid thing to worry over, he chided himself, who cared if Asgard no longer had that monopoly, wasn’t that exactly what he had disliked about Asgard’s methods?

“I thank you Queen Sigyn,” said Farbauti, inclining her head.

“Or better yet, perhaps the issue could be dealt with here,” said Sigyn cheerily. “After all, it would be far more neutral grounds than either Jötunheim or Asgard.”

“Are you implying that Asgard would not be fair?” asked Loki.

Sigyn smiled coldly at him, “I would not dream of making such an accusation, but it may be that it comes into people’s minds anyway. Why not ensure everyone feels that justice is done?”

Loki stared at her. He felt like he was looking at a stranger wearing a distorted version of his wife’s face. He swallowed and picked up the last scrap of meat on his plate.

“It will be something to consider,” he said neutrally. Sigyn giggled, and it was unmistakeably her ‘princess giggle’, the one she had perfected when they were young to conceal some dark emotion. It set Loki’s teeth on edge and he wondered why she was picking on him? Was it some sort of ploy to distance herself from him since the truth of their relationship had come out? Was it a way of getting the other monarchs on her side, by showing dislike for the bully that Asgard was perceived as?

The hall door opened as they finished the food and a tall, lean man strode in. As Loki looked around at him, he could have sworn Sigyn went ridged next to him, but when he looked back, she was as calm as ever.

“Rasil,” Sigyn greeted in that same chirpy voice that was really starting to annoy Loki, “Honoured guests I’d like you to meet my right hand man, Rasil. After my faithful Ljúfvina, he is my most trusted subject.”

Rasil bowed a little to them all, he was quite good-looking, and reminded Loki of Hogun, with the same shaped eyes and straight noses.

“Apologies for the interruption my queen, but I needed to give you this,” he said, holding out a piece of paper. Sigyn took it and read the contents. Her lips thinned slightly, then she smiled again, tore up the paper and dropped the pieces into Rasil’s hand. Rasil bowed again, his eyes fixed on Sigyn’s in a way that made the hair on Loki’s neck stand up. The fact that Sigyn returned the look made it all the worse. Rasil left the room, and as he did so, the plates vanished, and new bottles of wine appeared before them.

“Now that our meal is done,” said Sigyn, straightening up and clicking her fingers at Ljúfvina who left her place near the wall and picked up a box. “Queen Aetril, I hope you don’t mind if I present you a gift. It’s one I think you’ll want to take home with you –to do with as you see fit.”

The way she spoke made Loki uneasy, and he could tell by the looks on Aetril and Berach’s faces that they felt the same as Ljúfvina set the box carefully in front of the queen. It was a rather simple wooden box, but the size of it made Loki inexplicably nervous. Aetril gave a nervous smile and hesitantly touched the lid. Sigyn was watching her with a gleam of excitement in her eyes.

“Go on! It doesn’t bite.”

Aetril lifted the lid quickly, and dropped it as her hands flew to her mouth. Sigyn giggled again,

“Well, it doesn’t bite anymore.”

Loki half stood up to see inside the box, and regretted it at once. Inside the box, clearly having been preserved with seiðr, was the head of Malekith, Lord of the Dökkálfar. His milky eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in what might have been his final scream. Aetril looked appalled and Berach looked furious, but before either of them could speak, Sigyn asked,

“Don’t you like it? You can take it home and show it to your people. Proof that they need never fear Malekith again.”

The two ljósalfar looked at Sigyn and then back at the head. Loki sat down, feeling slightly nauseous, more at Sigyn’s voice than the head itself. Sigyn sounded very pleased with herself, as if it really was a wonderful gift she had presented to them. Berach slammed the lid down on the box and pushed it away from his mother, colour high in his face. His voice, however, remained calm,

“It is very considerate of you, to give us this proof. We –we appreciate the thought.”

“It’s much easier to believe someone is dead when you can see the body, isn’t it?” Sigyn said brightly. “I know I would still probably be calling myself princess if I hadn’t seen my parents dead on the floor.”

If possible, the tension shot up even more.

“Yes, I’m sorry for your loss,” said Berach in a calm voice. “It must have been very hard for you to deal with their loss as well as the devastation of the assault by the dökkálfar.”

For a split second Sigyn’s expression cracked just a little and she blinked at Berach as if seeing him clearly, but then her expression cleared and she shrugged with a little smile,

“What’s two more dead among five billion?”

“They were your parents,” said Aetril softly. Sigyn raised her eyebrows,

“I am aware of that.”

Loki wanted to speak, but he did not know what to say, whatever he came up with in his head seemed likely to say too much in this public setting. Sigyn looked round the table and clapped her hands together,

“Well, I’m afraid I have no gifts for the rest of you, you must forgive me for being such an inelegant hostess. But come tonight I think you’ll be quite pleased with the celebration we’ll be having. In the meantime, Ljúfvina will escort you to your rooms.”

With that said, Sigyn stood up and walked out of the room without a backward look. Loki stared after her, feeling stunned. Of all the ways he had imagined things going, this had never, ever entered his mind. He bit his lip as he stood up, repressing a mad desire to run after her, and instead he followed Ljúfvina out of the hall via a different door. As he walked Aetril slipped her hand into his elbow, and he looked down on her. She was pale, and her lower lip was trembling slightly. Berach was using seiðr to carry the box containing Malekith’s head, clearly he could not bear to actually touch it.

The room Loki was shown to was rather basic by his standards, but he was hardly going to complain. He paced around, searching for some sign from Sigyn, a letter or a communicator, something that would tell him that she would see him personally soon. There was nothing. Frustrated and confused, Loki threw himself down onto the nearest chair and scowled out the window. From his vantage he could see nothing but burnt land, and suddenly he wondered, what did you do with five billion bodies? You couldn’t just bury them, surely, wouldn’t that many bodies risk contaminating the fresh water? Burning them all would be impossible, the amount of fuel needed would be staggering. So what then?

He stood up and went to the window, opening it and inhaling the air. It carried an acrid smell of burnt grass and Loki wondered if that was always in the air wherever you went on Vanaheim. Looking out at Vanaheim and not seeing any trees, not hearing any animals call, it was just wrong. Anytime he had been to Vanaheim, usually publicly with Thor, he had always been fascinated by how wild Vanaheim seemed compared to Asgard. Now it just seemed… lifeless.

He tore his gaze away from the distant black fields and looked down into the city. People were milling about, but there was a sense of urgency, of anxiety, in their movements. As Loki watched, he noticed that no one was stopping to talk the way people did in Asgard, but then, he wondered what exactly they would have to talk about? They had all been through the same terrible experience, there probably wasn’t a family out there that had not lost at least one person. Who would want to relive that? If your life was all about surviving now, there couldn’t be much room for gossip.

Loki dragged his hands over his face, and started to turn away from the window when something caught his eye. A lone figure was exiting the palace from the side, in tight but soft clothes, a hood pulled low over their face. However, Loki would never mistake his wife for anyone else. Where was Sigyn sneaking off to? Loki leaned out the window to watch her step onto a pathway that was a shade lighter than the dead ground around her, and started to run.

There was no question about not following her, not if she was alone, and she seemed to be. Loki pushed himself up and swung his legs over the windowsill, took a deep breath and forced his body to shift into that of a crow. He stretched his wings, focused his adjusted eyes on Sigyn’s moving figure, able to see her much better now, and tipped forward into the air. He caught an updraft and was soaring through the air, following Sigyn as she moved towards what looked like a burnt out forest. Blackened trunks were all that remained, so it was easy to peer down and see Sigyn running below him. Loki looked around and spotted a section of the forest that was thicker and more concealed, and Sigyn’s path would take her through it. He flapped his wings to get ahead of her, then glided down to the thicket, landing on his Aesir feet. He stretched his arms to shake off the lingering discomfort that always came from being a much smaller creature and, hearing only the barest sound of breathing and footsteps, he hurried to stand right in Sigyn’s path, just as she turned into the thicket, nearly running right into him. 

Loki opened his mouth, but Sigyn’s hands snapped up and slammed into Loki’s chest. It was like being hit by a boulder. His feet left the ground and he fell back onto his rump with a grunt.

“You!”

Loki pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up at Sigyn. She was tense as a pulled bowstring, her hands up in a defensive motion, glaring down at him. As he stared at her face framed by the tightly drawn hood, he wondered for a moment how she had managed to hide all that hair of hers in there. He smiled as he got to his feet,

“Me!”

Sigyn did not smile, nor did she lower her hands, if anything she seemed to tense even more.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. Loki’s smile faltered slightly.

“What do you think? I’m here for you, I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to –to see you.” As he spoke Loki’s eyes roamed over her face hungrily. The shape of her nose, the curve of her lips, the colour of her eyes. He surged forward, arms out to embrace her, mouth desperate to kiss her, but Sigyn’s hand shot out and collided with his chest again, shoving him backwards and sending a deep pain through his chest.

“Ouch! What are you doing?”

“I should ask you the same!” she snapped.

“I just wanted to hold you, to kiss you. Isn’t that what a man should do when he sees his wife for the first time in-”

“Keep your voice down,” Sigyn hissed, looking around.

“What’s wrong? That Ey of yours told me everyone knows about us now,” said Loki, feeling slightly frustrated. This was not going anything like he had expected.

“Her name is Ljúfvina and if you’d listened you’d know that people only know we’ve had sex, they don’t know we went playing at being married,” said Sigyn. She sounded furious, and slightly shaken. Her hands had the faintest tremble to them, and her eyes darted around ceaselessly.

“Playing?” spluttered Loki, “That –we got married on Midgard!”

“No one would have recognised that –it was just a bit of fantasy,” said Sigyn.

“FANTASY!” Loki exploded. Several birds took flight, and Sigyn backed up, hands lifting higher as if she was prepared to strike him with a spell. Loki swallowed and opened his hands, spreading his arms in a peaceful gesture. “Sigyn, what’s wrong? It’s me, it’s Loki.”

“I know perfectly well who you are,” she said, expression so dark and so vicious that Loki hardly recognised her.

“Then why –aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Should I be?”

Loki’s stomach dropped and he stared at Sigyn in disbelief. He could not understand it, why was Sigyn acting like this? Why did her eyes keep darting around? He looked around and frowned, then lowered his voice as much as he could when he could not get closer to her,

“Are we being watched?”

Sigyn’s face twitched and she scoffed, “Can you see anyone around here?”

Loki was about to say that meant nothing, but he realised that was probably Sigyn’s way of saying yes. As he studied her and forced his brain to work, he remembered his suspicions that Sigyn was being controlled by someone else. That had to be it. He swallowed and raged against the idea that anyone was controlling his wife, but then again, was this not what they were experts at? Sneaking around and finding ways to be together? He just had to fall back on their previous tricks. He drew in a soft breath and licked his lips,

“I –I didn’t mean to cause distress.”

Sigyn’s glare softened with confusion as he took a step back, spreading his hands again, “I only wanted to see you.”

“Did you not get enough earlier?” asked Sigyn.

“Never,” said Loki, swallowing hard. Sigyn drew herself up and her expression grew more stern, rather than angry.

“You should not be here, it’s not appropriate.”

Loki wanted to say, “But you’re the queen, who cares?” but he held back. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Go back to the palace Loki,” she commanded. Loki glanced around, then at Sigyn. Her gaunt face, framed by the hood, seemed very tired and she looked older than he remembered. The toll her recent experiences had had on her?

“Can we talk there?” he asked hopefully. He did not want to part with her, not without a certainty that he would be able to be with her again soon after.

Sigyn sighed, “I intend to speak with each of the delegations while you are here.”

“But that won’t be private.”

“It’s as close as you’ll get. Now go back, and let me do my run,” she said in that same stern voice. Loki pressed his lips together, then stepped out of her way. Sigyn did not hesitate, she took off like a cat, running away at an impressive pace. Loki watched her go, feeling rather hollow, then pulled his body into a bird again and returned to the palace. He paced the room twice, then grabbed the nearest thing and threw it at the wall.


	14. Queen Sigyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Sigyn come face to face for the first time in four years.

After what felt like years, but was really only two hours, the delegates were called for dinner. Ljúfvina met them in a small room on the ground floor. Loki could hear chatter filtering through the walls, and wondered just what this evening would be like. He had only been to a handful of Vanir festivals, but remembered that they had been less about heavy food, mead and songs of victories past, and more about music, light wines and sweet foods. Would they still be like that now?

Ljúfvina smiled at them, her hands neatly folded in front of her. She wore a kind of suit that was clean but pale coloured and simple, her copper hair done in ringlets piled on top of her head. Loki thought she looked quite attractive, but her style was not really anything he recognised from Vanaheim.  

“As my queen told you, we are celebrating the end of the attempted invasion, the death of Malekith and Queen Sigyn’s rise to power.”

“What exactly will happen?” asked Berach coolly. Loki suspected he was afraid of getting another head in a box, and was privately hoping there were indeed no more limbs to be found.  

“There will be dancing, singing, food, and then the ceremony to mark the event,” said Ljúfvina.

“Will we be asked to participate?” asked Aetril.

“Not at all, you’re simply asked to enjoy yourselves.”

Loki wondered if it were really possible to enjoy a celebration like this.

“Please,” said Ljúfvina, turning and leading them towards the throne room they had first seen Sigyn in. The doors swung open and Loki was hit hard by a wave of heady incense, heat and music. They walked in and Loki saw that the roof was gone, exposing the room to the starry sky. Yet the sky was hazy from the smoke and steam that filled the room, and Loki felt his lungs catch as he inhaled it. Almost immediately, however, his lungs, along with the rest of him, relaxed and he felt slightly calmer. There was obviously something potent in the smoke.

The hall was full of people, dancing, laughing and drinking. They were all dressed like Ljúfvina, and there was no sign of any kind of jewellery, in what seemed to be a deliberate fashion choice. In fact the only thing that sparkled like a gemstone was Sigyn’s silk clothing catching the light as she moved on her throne. Loki looked up at her and was reminded vividly of the Ostara festival when Sigyn had danced as the embodiment of sex. There was something primal and wild about her, but Loki did not think it made her seem very approachable. Her clothes hugged her body, exposing painted skin as much as possible, yet covering her breasts and pelvis tightly. Her mane of hair was now free of her diadem and seemed to have grown even larger. As Loki followed Ljúfvina to the diplomats’ table, his eyes were drawn once more to Sigyn’s feet, which seemed so bare compared to the rest of her body, which was painted with swirls and symbols, some of which he recognised as magical symbols –old and traditional seiðr that neither of them utilised much. It was the sort anyone could use, even if they were not particularly inclined. Odd.

They sat down, facing into the hall. In the centre of the hall was a large shallow vessel, and Loki could see a dark liquid covering the bottom. He glanced around and caught Berach frowning at the room.

“What’s wrong?” he asked him.

“Perhaps it’s just me, but I don’t feel very… included in the goings on. It feels more like… we’re being asked to bear witness to the events.”

Loki looked around again, and frowned slightly. The diplomats’ table was at a distance from the rest of the room. It almost felt like they had been placed at the foot of a stage, and every person before them was an actor.

“You might have a point.”

 “She wants us to see how capable she is,” said Aetril softly, her face grim as she looked up at Sigyn, who was watching the dancing below her with a lazy smile, a glass dangling from her fingers. Loki nodded in agreement, this was a show for them, a way for Sigyn to prove she was a real queen. Had he not done the same in his own ways when he had come to power? He remembered with absolute clarity how desperate he had been to prove himself, only he had wanted to impress the people of Asgard, not the other realms. It made him feel very uncomfortable, almost embarrassed, as he remembered his early days. And how strange was it to realise he had been a king long enough to consider the start his early days.

They were served food, once again very simple. Loki noticed that Sigyn was not eating, only drinking, and he quietly groaned to himself. He did not know if Aetril and Berach knew of Sigyn’s complicated relationship with alcohol, but he knew that Sigyn would be humiliated if they did. It was hard to focus on anything, however, with the incense and the hypnotising music, not to mention the half-naked men and women that were dancing all around them. They were swaying their hips, playing with their hair and brushing against each other as if lost in their own dreams and Loki wondered how long they had been inhaling the fumes.

If there had not been that same dark air to the room, it would probably have been very erotic, but Loki felt on edge the longer he sat there. Next to him, Berach was sweeping his gaze over the room then coming back to Sigyn, his gaze laser-like, as if he wanted to see inside her head. If he thought he would get anywhere with Sigyn where Loki had failed, he was a fool.

It was very hard to tell how much time had passed. Loki was starting to feel slightly nauseous and sleepy, his gaze focusing on the nearest candle flame, when Sigyn clapped her hands once and absolute silence and stillness fell at once. It was like being struck deaf and Loki jumped, feeling Fullangr start next to him where she had been nodding off. All the Vanir had turned to Sigyn and were watching her with rapt attention, many quivering with what seemed to be excitement. Sigyn rose to her feet, pushing her hair away from her face and stepped down from her throne. Loki’s mouth went dry as he watched her hips sway with her steps. Strange and uncomfortable as he found all of this, he could not deny his wife’s appeal.

Sigyn approached the large, shallow vessel and as she reached it, she raised a hand and flicked her fingers towards it. A flame burst from her fingertips and arched into the bowl, setting the contents alight. Down the table, Farbauti growled in irritation at the increase in heat. The flames soared above Sigyn’s head, cutting through the hazy air, and Sigyn was illuminated for a moment. Then she stepped into the flames.

Loki was on his feet before he could stop himself, so was Berach, but a second later, the flames twisted and seemed to wrap around Sigyn like a second skin. It was as if she were made of fire. She lifted her hands above her head and Loki felt a shiver of heady, deep seiðr ripple across his skin. He blinked and noticed the candle near his hand on the table flickering oddly. He looked down and stared in amazement. The tiny flame had morphed into a miniature of Sigyn just as Loki could see her in front of him. He looked around and saw that every flame in the room had become a replica of his wife, just as Sigyn spun on the spot and there was music emanating from the flames, clear and powerful. Sigyn started to dance, arching her back and rolling her hips, flames rippling over her skin, and as she moved, the tiny flames moved with her.

Loki sat down again, mouth slightly open as he watched some of the most beautiful magic he had ever seen. It was raw power, carefully controlled and delicately manipulated. It was a focus Loki had never seen Sigyn display before, in fact it reminded him of the Casket of Primal Fire he had made himself. But he had forged that in an act of desperate panic, without thinking, flying on instinct. Sigyn’s seiðr was deliberate and measured, it was-

“Magnificent,” breathed Berach. Loki glanced at the older man; Berach was watching Sigyn dance with an expression of wonder Loki would not have expected he could even make. Next to her son, Aetril nodded, her expression more uneasy.

“This spell –can you feel how far it reaches?”

Loki nodded. The seiðr was seeking out every likeness of itself across the world, every flame on Vanaheim would look like Sigyn, would carry this music, carrying the song Sigyn was now singing. It was like being a part of an old fable, something ancient and half forgotten. A queen of myth, dancing in the fire to conjure spirits and monsters, the kind of queen Frigga had told Loki and Thor about when they were boys.

Sigyn sang a song of power, of heart and love, of grief and triumph, a war song that remembered the dead, and celebrated the victory. It was obviously a well-known song, because the people in the hall started to sing along, their voices powerful and emotive, each of them raising a hand to the flames, as if to bask in Sigyn’s warmth and strength. Several people dropped to their knees and seemed to use the song as a form of prayer.

They were worshipping Sigyn, Loki realised with a lurch of his stomach, and he wondered if, outside this shabby house posing as a palace, across the burnt and broken land, people were kneeling in the dirt and praying to Sigyn. It was an odd thought. Asgardians did not pray to their king for salvation, they could make requests, bids and pleas, they might have admired Odin, and feared Loki, but they did not worship them like this. Not even the Vanir had prayed like this to Sigyn before the invasion.

It was an oddly disquieting notion. Loki could not pinpoint his feelings about this realisation. Unsettled? Derisive? Proud? Jealous? Aroused? He did not know. Swallowing, he folded his hands in his lap and tried to just appreciate the excellent magic. And it was excellent magic.

The music reached a crescendo and wings of fire flared out of Sigyn’s back, then disappeared, and her face morphed into that of a wolf and vanished, claws sprung out of her finger tips and vanished. She continued to writhe inside the flames, kicking her legs out, springing like a deer inside the vessel. Then she leapt into the air, her hands stretched to the sky and the flames rushed off her and out into the sky, dispersing in an arch beneath the stars with a final cry of song.

Silence fell at once and Sigyn fell to her knees, flameless and panting. The tiny replicas of her returned to normal flames and the Vanir around them all covered their faces as if overwhelmed by grief. Startled, Loki glanced around and in that half moment, Sigyn was already halfway across the room, heading for the door with a swish of her great mane of hair. Loki half rose from his chair again, as if to chase after her, only to catch himself and he sank back down as Sigyn left the room. The door closed with a snap.

“Well, that was interesting,” said Fullangr, smacking her lips and holding out her glass, “Is there anymore wine?”

**~*~**

Loki did not sleep after the celebration. Instead he paced his room, waiting and hoping for some sort of communication from Sigyn, and contemplating going to look for her himself. After all, he reasoned, she had always come to him before, it was bound to be his turn to close the distance. Yet he remembered her reaction back in the forest, and dreaded that same reaction again. Maybe if he did only as Sigyn asked, if he waited for her to call for him, then he would get a better reception.

He paced and planned what exactly he would say to her, how he would probe her for information in a way that would ensure no one would know what he was doing. If someone was really controlling Sigyn, as he still suspected, Loki would have to be very careful. The last thing he wanted was to put Sigyn in danger because he could not remember how to be the clever silvertongue people thought him to be. He had become too used to blunt, curt commands, and would need to summon all his skills as a word-smith to get through this.

By the time the sun rose and a breakfast tray was delivered, Loki’s head was buzzing. He sat down to eat and as he lifted the plate, he found a letter underneath. His heart leapt and he opened it with slightly trembling fingers.

_‘King Loki,_

_I request your attendance to a meeting regarding Vanaheim and Asgard’s future relationship._

_It will take place just before midday._

_Regards,_

_Queen Sigyn of the United Peoples of Vanaheim.’_

Loki stared at the familiar writing, then lifted the paper to his nose, inhaling the faint scent that was clinging to the paper. Then he held it to the light, seeking some sort of extra information, a secret message, but he was not surprised to find none. His nightly musings had brought him to consider Sigyn’s strange behaviour, how she seemed to be doing her best to avoid all the delegates while putting on a show for them. It was almost as if someone did not want them looking too closely at the queen, lest they notice something was amiss. That, coupled with her fear when he had cornered her, told Loki that someone was definitely exerting some sort of influence upon her. However, his prime suspect was now gone. He had doubted that Malekith was really dead, but having seen the man’s head, he decided it would have to be someone else. But who else could it be?

Loki wished he had brought Mýrkjartan, he would have been very useful here, able to spy where Loki could not. Next time.

The morning passed very slowly, Loki was bored and irritable at being made to wait, but he forced himself to stay where he was. He found a book, a single, lonely book, and tried to read it, but it was very difficult to focus. All he could think about was that he was in the same building as Sigyn, that she was somewhere near him, and yet he did not feel much closer to her than he had on Asgard.

There was a knock on the door and Loki nearly fell out of his chair in surprise. He hurried over and opened the door. Ljúfvina was standing there, and she was smiling at him in an oddly soft way. Loki was struck by how nicely her hair framed her face, before he scowled at her.   

“Good morning,” she said, inclining her head.

“Morning,” said Loki curtly.

“May I come in?” she asked softly. Loki frowned at her, then stepped aside. Ljúfvina walked in and stood by the window, peering out at the city. “You’ve a lovely view, such as it is.”

“Yes, it’s not how I remember this world,” said Loki.

“It’s not how anyone left alive remembers it,” said Ljúfvina, wrapping her arms around her stomach and putting her back to the window. “It will get better though. We just need time to heal it, and the will to aid it.”

Loki nodded, sitting back in his chair, setting the book aside carelessly. Ljúfvina’s eyes snapped to the book and narrowed sharply.

“Majesty, you know that books are rare in Vanaheim these days. Billions were destroyed by the dökkálfr –I’m sure you can imagine how much was lost as a result.”

Loki’s cheeks began to burn as he reached out and reset the book more gently.

“I’m not –I’m struggling to appreciate what has been done to this realm. The sheer scale of it…”

Ljúfvina nodded and stepped forward, sitting across from him and resting her elbows on her knees.

“It’s hard to grasp even when you were in the middle of it.” Her green eyes lifted to his and they stared at each other for a moment. Despite all his time with Sigyn, he had never really been around her servants before. He had never really considered them as individual people, they had always just been an annoyance. Now, he was struck by how tired Ljúfvina seemed. He still did not trust her, but he was aware that perhaps she too was struggling.

“So, why are you here?” he prompted. She laughed,

“Are you always so blunt, King Loki? My mistress says you’re usually a dancer, moving around the point until you’re ready to come to it.”

Loki’s heart gave a lurch. Sigyn talked about him to her servant?

“What else does she say?”

“Many things, although these days very few of them are kind.”

Loki felt his shoulders drop, “I see.”

Ljúfvina smiled faintly at the ground, “She’s highly critical of you in fact.”

Loki’s hands curled into fists, “I see,” he growled again.

Ljúfvina peered up at him through her eyelashes, “Sometimes we are cruellest about those that matter the most to us.”

Loki sat up and narrowed his eyes at the other woman.

“What do you mean?”

Ljúfvina did not reply, instead she stared up at him with an unreadable expression, one that made him feel slightly shy –which made no sense to him at all. Ljúfvina’s hand twitched slightly and for a foolish moment, Loki thought she was going to take his hand, but instead she drew back and sighed.

“I’m to bring you to my mistress for your meeting.”

Loki nodded, getting to his feet. He was startled when Ljúfvina stood up so quickly they ended up almost nose to nose. Her cheeks were flushed and her expression was once again unreadable, save that it made him feel flustered. Then Ljúfvina stepped away and strode to the door, leaving Loki unsure if he had imagined it. He followed her through the house and into a small, airy room. Sigyn was sitting at the table in the centre, reading on a tablet. She was dressed as elaborately as yesterday, which seemed a bit excessive in the brightly lit room. Once again Loki wondered how she had crammed all that hair into her hood yesterday.

“King Loki, my queen,” said Ljúfvina in a tentative voice. She sounded as anxious as Loki felt. Sigyn looked up and nodded without smiling,

“Thank you Ljúfvina, you may go.”

Ljúfvina opened her mouth as if to protest, but there were soft footsteps and a man appeared behind Sigyn. Loki recognised him as Rasil, the one Sigyn had called her right hand man. Rasil smirked at Ljúfvina, who stiffened next to Loki, although her expression did not change. There was a moment where Loki could feel the tension between them, then Ljúfvina bowed and left the room. Loki glanced between Sigyn and Rasil, approaching the table slowly. Rasil rested his hand on the back of Sigyn’s chair, watching Loki with the kind of intensity he normally associated with Heimdall. Sigyn seemed equally uneasy as she leaned back in her chair, staring at Loki with a cold expression as he drew out his chair and sat down across from her.

“Good morning,” said Loki, smiling at her. Sigyn did not smile back.

“Morning, did you sleep well?”

Loki nodded, hoping he did not look like he had not slept last night. Sigyn nodded and straightened up in her seat, hands folded in her lap.

“So, I wanted to talk with you about the current relationship between Vanaheim and Asgard. It’s something that has not been looked at for quite some time.” She tapped her finger on the tablet, “Since we’re both new and different monarchs to what has gone before, I think the way our realms relate to each other should reflect that, don’t you?”

“I agree,” said Loki in his best pleasant voice, “But first I would like to extend an official offer of assistance from Asgard to Vanaheim.”

Sigyn tilted her head very slightly to the left, away from Rasil, as if puzzled by his words.

“Assistance?”

“Yes, if there’s anything Asgard can do to help you-”

“Do you think us incapable of caring for ourselves?” she asked in a sweet, dangerous voice. Rasil lifted his chin and stared down at Loki with unmistakeable contempt. Loki stared at them both, feeling uneasy, but he smiled amicably.

“No, the fact that you sit before me as queen tells me you are more than capable of caring for your people, but still, Vanaheim has suffered-”

“I am well aware of what my realm and people have suffered,” cut in Sigyn. Loki snapped his mouth shut, glancing between Sigyn and Rasil a few times before trying again.

“Your majesty, I just wanted to say that Asgard, and I myself, want to extend any aid you may need, not because I don’t think you can care for yourselves, but because even so, I want to ensure you’ve any support I can offer.”

Sigyn narrowed her eyes, while behind her Rasil’s lips twitched in what might have been a sneer, yet neither said anything against the offer. Sigyn simply nodded and tapped the tablet before her again,

“Now, King Loki, let us turn to the current matter. I’ve been reading the previous treaty, and I think that it is well due for a redrafting.”

“May I read what it contains, it’s been a while since I last looked at it,” said Loki. He had read the treaty several times, but not for a good number of years. Sigyn pushed the tablet across the table and sat back as Loki picked it up and started reading.

The treaty had been written after the Aesir-Vanir War, after King Buri had fallen and his son Bor had managed to crush the Vanir with cruel and vicious efficiency. Loki and Thor had grown up being told that story by Odin and Tyr. Thor did not seem to have taken the same message from the story as Loki had, if Loki recalled correctly. The treaty was not very kind to the Vanir. Hostages had been taken, including the still imprisoned Freyr and his humiliated sister Freya, and Vanaheim had been compelled to send many tributes and payments. They were also to consult with Asgard’s king on important decisions, like forming a unified monarchy the way Njord and Skadi did. If Odin had decided against it, Sigyn would likely never have been born, but Odin had probably realised Vanaheim would tear itself apart if he did not allow the change. So Loki supposed he owed this treaty a lot, but it had never sat comfortably with him and he and Sigyn had always planned on changing it when they became Queen and Prince Consort.

“So, what exactly would you like to amend?” he asked after skimming it. “The tribute can certainly be reduced, and I would say-”

“I think,” cut in Sigyn in that same sweet voice, “That I may have misspoken. I have no interest in amending this travesty of a document. I want a new treaty. One in which Asgard fully acknowledges Vanaheim’s independence and accepts us as equals.”

That… should not have surprised Loki in the slightest.

“You want to cut ties to Asgard?”

“I want my people to no longer be under the heel of yours. How that will affect our realms’ future relationship is something to be discovered, but in the here and now, I want to bring the old way to a close.”

Loki looked down at the treaty, then back at Sigyn,

“I have no objections to a full discussion between our realms. I agree that this treaty does not really fit our modern times, nor my own policies.”

Sigyn’s eyebrows twitched slightly, then she glanced up at Rasil, who met her gaze and they seemed to have a conversation in a moment. Then Sigyn said in a slightly more natural voice,

“Well, I’m glad that you agree. I have no desire for my realm to be subject to anyone.”

“I can appreciate that,” said Loki.

“Can you?” muttered Rasil. Loki glared at him, wondering how he had the audacity to stand so close to Sigyn and speak out of turn.

“Of course I can.”

Sigyn smiled and touched Rasil’s arm in a way that made the hair on Loki’s neck stand up.

“Leave us now,” she murmured. Rasil threw Loki a suspicious look, then left the room. “You’ll have to forgive him, he’s not exactly fond of Asgard.”

“I noticed,” muttered Loki before realising that he and Sigyn were alone, or at least, they appeared to be alone. He tried not to react as Sigyn stood up and walked around the table towards him.

“So, it seems Vanaheim has not been the only realm to suffer in recent years.” She lifted herself onto the table with a graceful hop and crossed her legs, exposing the smooth, dark skin. She was so close Loki could smell her perfume. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

“There was… there was a rebellion,” said Loki in a low voice, “Tyr and Forseti, they tried to oust me as king, and as they did so… I was not able to fight, because of what I had become.”

“Become? Oh, yes, that metamorphosis you went through,” said Sigyn, reaching back and plucking something small and dark from a box in the middle of the room. Loki watched as she put the small rollup between her teeth, clicked her fingers and lit the end with the flame that sprung from her fingertips. Sigyn tilted her head back as she inhaled, then held the rollup in her fingers and exhaled a stream of smoke. He was fiercely reminded of being on Midgard with her and watching all of the men and women sucking on the cigarettes that had stank up the place. Sigyn’s voice brought him back, “So, why couldn’t you fight?”

“I was dying, the transformation was consuming me. You were right. They had to put me in stasis, and then the old guard rebelled and Kvasir… to save me Kvasir threw me into subspace.” Loki rubbed at his chest where Kvasir had run him through with Gungnir. Sigyn’s expression did not change from her almost bored indifference as she tapped away some ash.

“Well, obviously you found your way back.”

“It –it was not easy,” said Loki, remembering his birth mother, driven mad by the curse in his family blood, “But I learned that all of my life was set upon a path by Gullveig.”

“Gullveig? How?”

“She cursed her own bloodline to bring down the Bor line. My son Fenrir was sent by the Norns to stop her, but she manipulated fate itself to ensure he never could.”

Something in Sigyn’s face flickered, like a muscle twitch, but otherwise she simply put the cigarette between her lips once more. Loki swallowed, hating the indifference in her face. He wanted something from her, something he could work with.

“Fenrir is free now, he devoured Gullveig, she and what remained of Bergdís are gone. I got Fenrir back, as a newborn, untouched by what was done to him, and I got Jörmungandr back too.”

Sigyn’s hand shook slightly as she lowered it to the edge of the table.

“So, you have your sons back,” she murmured, and there was definitely some emotion in her voice, but Loki could not identify it. “That’s something at least.”

They looked at each other, Sigyn regarding Loki as if he were a puzzle, her thumb toying with the butt of the cigarette. Loki stared back, wondering just what was in the cigarette. It could not be tobacco, nor did he think it was sweetleaf, that was native to Alfheim and he doubted there was a supply hanging around. He knew Vanaheim had several plants that the people could smoke, but he had never participated in their use. He had been considered odd on Midgard the last time they were there, almost everyone had smoked something, but Loki did not like it. Sigyn had enjoyed sampling everything, she never seemed to care what it was, there had been very few things she did not like. He glanced up at her eyes, trying to see if her pupils were dilating. It did not appear so. He started to reach for her hand, resting limply on her thigh,

“You know, I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

Sigyn drew her hand back, raising her eyebrows,

“Why?” she murmured disdainfully. Loki retracted his hand and swallowed,

“Because I’m very proud of them, and as we are friends I would love for you to meet them.”

“Sentiment,” said Sigyn softly, sucking hard on the cigarette then vanished it with a twitch of her hand, exhaling the smoke and staring at the ceiling for a long moment. “I’m a bit busy to be meeting little princes.”

“Yes, I –I understand,” said Loki, “However, if you wish to have a… a respite-”

“As I said, I’m a bit busy,” said Sigyn primly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “Now, you were telling me about your terrible rebellion.”

The sarcasm was dripping from her lips, and Loki felt a spike of anger. He drew in a deep breath and kept his voice steady,

“I, well, I spoke with the Norns,” he said and he glanced up at her to see she was utterly blank at this declaration, “And I agreed to ensure that Gullveig would die. In exchange they, well, they gave me Mjölnir.”

“Thor’s hammer?”

“Mmm, it’s mine now.”

“Well, haven’t you done well for yourself?” she said with a brittle smile. “Your sons, Thor’s hammer, the throne your own now –I can only assume Odin still sleeps.”

“I… I suppose so,” said Loki. From her perspective he supposed he had done quite well. Without her he had never truly appreciated it.

“You suppose?” she asked in that dangerously sweet voice again. “Tell me, how exactly are you hard done by?”

I didn’t have you, he thought, but as he thought it he realised just how stupidly selfish and narrow-minded he had been. He had a throne that was now secure under him, with a council that trusted and liked him. He had his sons, and that alone was worth more than anything. He had Thor’s favourite symbol, had ascended higher than he ever could, and Loki had done nothing but sulked.

Abruptly Sigyn laughed, “You haven’t changed! You always want something else, you’re never happy with what you have. You have more than any other man in the Nine Realms could possibly imagine, and yet you still burn with a longing.”

Of course he did, Loki thought, he did not have her. Sigyn smirked and leaned forward,

“That longing will be your undoing King Loki, won’t it?”

Loki swallowed and stood up, stepping closer to her so they were almost nose to nose. Sigyn did not react, save to look up at him with that blank expression. It was as if she was trying to get under his skin… no that was exactly what she was trying to do. Why, Loki did not know, but he knew he could not give it to her.

“So, I’ve told you my story, now it’s your turn.”

Sigyn raised her eyebrows in mild surprise.

“I don’t recall offering that deal.”

“Well, consider it a part of the exchange, my story for yours.”

“Hmm, I’m quite sure you did not tell me who destroyed the Bifröst, so I wouldn’t consider the story closed.”

Loki sighed, “Malekith, it was Malekith who arranged it.”

Sigyn’s face shut down and she lost all the colour in her cheeks. “Ah.”

“He must have wanted to cut us off, so we could not come to your aid –you must know I’d have come here with every soldier at my disposal.”

Sigyn did not reply straight away, then finally she said,

“Yes, I suppose I do know that.”

Loki did not like the tone, it was as if she did not consider that an improvement.

“In any case,” he growled, “Now, tell me your story.”

Sigyn smirked,

“I still made no such agreement with you. Besides, Ljúfvina told you what happened, didn’t she?”

“I want to hear it from you!” he snapped. Sigyn smiled and pressed her hand against his chest, pushing him backwards.

“I don’t answer to you, King of Asgard.” She slid off the table and walked back around, taking her seat, “I don’t answer to anyone. I have no master anymore, only friends I choose to embrace. Speak to me like that again, and you will not be one of them.”

Loki stared at her, struggling to hide his hurt as Sigyn smiled sweetly up at him and reclined in her chair as if it were her throne.

“I don’t want us to be enemies,” he said as steadily as he could.

“Then we won’t be,” she said as if it was really that simple. “Now, I trust you will have your ambassadors work on the treaty, and I will have mine do the same.” Her tone was abruptly brisk and business-like. Loki got the feeling she had grown bored with toying with him and it was like being cut to the quick.

“Yes, of course,” he said, but as he heard his own cowed voice, a burst of rage cut through him. He was the king of Asgard, he was her husband, and she spoke to him as if he was barely worth her time. “As to the offer you made to Queen Farbauti, I rather think you have enough to deal with without attempting to… draw the eye to your inexperience.”

Sigyn’s eyes flashed, “I beg your pardon?”

“It all just seems a bit much to be offering to help negotiate between two traditionally antagonistic realms, especially when you’re already having to work so hard, I’m sure, to bring Vanaheim to a reflection of its glory.” It was a horribly low blow, but it was worth it to see her look truly stricken for a moment, a spark of genuine emotion and he continued on, “I think if I were to ask for help with the matter, I would seek Queen Aetril’s. After all, Alfheim is far more neutral than Vanaheim could claim to be, and Queen Aetril has far more experience.”

Sigyn’s knuckles were white on the arms of her chair and it seemed to take her a minute to calm herself enough to speak,

“Well, if that is what you wish…”

“I think it is,” he said primly. He wanted to stride around the table and grab her, either to embrace her, or shake her.

“Very well then,” said Sigyn, her voice flat and cold as she stood up again. “If there is nothing else.”

It was so tempting to play the arrogant monarch to match her, to demand to know what was going to happen to the original intention of marriage between a Prince of Asgard and the Princess of Vanaheim. Loki wanted to ask it, just to see what she would say, but in the end, he managed to hold it back. It was not the right time to be making such demands. He gave a twitch of a head bow, and then left the room without saying another word. He was shaking with frustration, unable to think clearly as he walked all the way through the house to a huge window that faced the open sky and broad land. The devastation was spread out before him and he trembled violently, his hands pressed to the glass as if he were trapped in a cage.

It was unbelievable to see the damage Malekith had rained down upon this beautiful world. It was disgusting, heartless –a thousand things that did not have strong enough words to match this crime.

He wished Malekith was still alive so he could make him suffer for his crimes, but even as the thought passed through his mind, another part of him, the part that had kept him from demanding Sigyn uphold the marriage treaty, whispered that vengeance would not fix any of this.

Frigga had warned him several times that he would need to separate his king self and his personal self to manage this situation. Deep down he had known she was right, but he had clung on to the fantasy that everything would be fine, just as he had clung on to the fantasy that he and Sigyn would one day be able to marry, before either of them had become monarchs. It was just like his fantasy about his sons –he had only remembered how sweet they were, how fragile, and the reality of Jörmungandr, moody, opinionated, grudging, was something he did not really know how to handle. He had not been able to let go of the dreams and fantasies he and Sigyn had built together, of their perfect life together with two perfect sons, and more to follow. They had become so vital to their world that they had shared.  

Staring out at the devastated landscape, Loki dragged his hands over his face and held his curled fingers against his mouth. A pain was blossoming in his torso as he finally, truly, accepted that not only were his dreams impossible, they were becoming harmful. They made him unreasonable, they kept him from handling things rationally when it came to Sigyn and his sons. He found his reflection’s eyes and glared at himself.

“Pathetic,” he hissed, “Grow up!”

“It’s said talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Loki whirled around. Rasil was standing a few feet away. How had Loki not heard him approach? That smirk on his face set Loki’s teeth on edge and instant dislike flooded him.

“I doubt it, that’s something people say to control the behaviour of others. Speaking aloud can help focus thoughts.”

“And do you have many thoughts to focus?” asked Rasil, tilting his head to the side in exaggerated surprise. Loki narrowed his eyes and stepped forward,

“Did you want something… forgive me, but I forget your name.” It was petty but he did not like this man at all. It was the way he looked at Loki, it set his teeth on edge. All smirking lips and dark eyes.

“A shame, there are so few Vanir left that one would have thought you could make an effort,” said Rasil in a light tone, but the sting hit Loki hard.

“What do you want?”

Rasil’s eyes flashed and widened, the smirk on his lips spreading wider as he said in a soft voice,

“Nothing. I want nothing at all from you, King Loki.”

There was something in that statement that gave it meaning, meaning Loki did not know, and right now, did not care about.

“Then leave me be.”

Rasil inclined his head in a mockery of a bow and walked away. Loki watched him go, thinking that if he were home, such behaviour would have earned Rasil a beating. It amused him to imagine that smirking face getting punched, over and over. Sigyn had called him her right hand, what could such a worm have done to make him so loved?

He turned back to the window, and tried to recall his train of thought, but it was gone and all he could remember was his horror at the devastation. He returned to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had some good holidays, food, drink, presents etc.   
> Always remember that comments and critique, positive and negative, is welcome from all and sundry!


	15. Sigyn's Plan

They were summoned to another meeting with Sigyn before the day was over. Loki looked from one representative to another, but none of them were giving away any indication that they knew what it was about. They all looked rather contemplative, and he wondered if their meetings with Sigyn had been more in-depth than his own, which he knew had been inadequate. He should have focused on the politics, not the personal.

He would work hard to stay focused, to reclaim his old skills at smooth talking and clinical focus.

They sat at the same table as before. Water was poured and Loki wondered, with a squirm of discomfort in his belly, if they had run out of wine last night. He did not think Asgard had ever run short of mead and wine –but was that because of where Loki had grown up? The nobility would always run out last. The water tasted fresh and clear, and he wondered where it was from, surely rivers had been contaminated all around the land if it was so damaged. Had they retained their filtration systems? What technology had survived the assault? Obviously some had, everyone he had seen had been carried an electrical tablet. That was obviously how they conducted their business, not on paper or vellum, as Asgard preferred –although that tradition was starting to shift because Loki preferred tablets. What other technology had survived? What would be viewed as worth keeping, worth salvaging?

What about their temples, they had hundreds of them, had they all been destroyed? Loki hated to admit that if he were Malekith he would have gone after everything that made the Vanir proud of themselves, to break their morale and faith. Worse, the temples had special seiðr tied into them, the kind of seiðr the planet could desperately use right now.

The door opened to let Sigyn in, jerking Loki from his musings and making him look around. She had switched her elaborate and rather unpractical dress from this morning to something much simpler, plain black trousers and jacket, and her hair had been tamed, somehow, into a braided bun at the back of her head. It made her look much less overwhelmingly large, more natural, though the makeup and paint was still visible.

“Apologies for my delay, I had to finish some arrangements,” Sigyn said as she sat down. Loki straightened up as she rested her hands on the table and looked around at them all. “Now then, I have a matter I would like to discuss with you all, as a matter of some urgency.”

The tension in the room shot up, and Loki glanced at Aetril across from him. She was watching Sigyn intently, her pale eyes narrowed.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, the Convergence will occur within one year, at least by Vanaheim’s time. It will be a time when our realms will all align within the trunk of Yggdrasil and the boundaries between our realms will be weakened. It will be a tumultuous time for all concerned, as anyone who was there the last time will recall.” Sigyn inclined her head to Aetril and Berach who nodded. “However, it is also a time of opportunity. Opportunity that I intend to seize upon.”

Sigyn tapped her tablet and a hologram appeared, hovering and gently turning above the table in front of them. At once Loki recognised it as a representation of Yggdrasil.

“As some of you may not be as aware as others, Yggdrasil is the name that the mutual ancestors of Vanaheim and Asgard called the unique –or at least we believe it is unique –realm of space that contain several particular planets. Vanaheim.”

A small red dot flared to life inside the model of Yggdrasil.

“Alfheim.”

Another red dot appeared in a different part.

“Nidavellir, Jötunheim, Muspelheim, Svartalfheim and Asgard.”

More dots sprang up in the slowly revolving image. Loki’s eyes moved from one to the other, knowing that the distances between these tiny dots was impossible to truly appreciate.

“These realms are all represented here at this table, and I’m sure you all have your own plans for the event –however… I would ask that you consider an alternative.”

They all looked at Sigyn, whose eyes were fixed on the model.

“There is a ritual that I have been researching, one that would require every seiðr wielder in the realms to participate in, which would be a kind of… resetting of the realms.”

“Resetting?” repeated Farbauti, leaning one massive arm on the table, the frost spreading across the wood.

“Yes, you see, every realm is tied into Yggdrasil, even if we’re not always aware of it, but unlike most planets that meander through the universe, the ones that are a part of Yggdrasil are, for lack of a better term, susceptible to its overarching influence. Each realm has a default setting, embedded deep in its environment, and moreover, all the pathways that link the realms are similarly influenced.”

Loki frowned, starting to understand where Sigyn was going with this, though he had never heard of such a ritual.

“There is a natural flow and rhythm to the Nine Realms, that is why they have always been defined as the Nine realms when we all know of course that there are other worlds with life beyond them. Yet none of them can be tied into a Bifrost because they are not a part of Yggdrasil, they do not have the connections the Bifrost taps into to connect our realms. It is as if we are a series of connected islands in the middle of a vast ocean, and between us are channels and currents that carry nutrients and life between the realms. Yet, from what I have learned in the past few years, the channels and movements, the rhythm of Yggdrasil has been terribly affected, damaged even.”

“By what?” asked Sina, his head tilted curiously.

“By us, by our own actions. The Nine Realms were once Eight, and then became Nine when Asgard blasted its way into existence, and after that, Jötunheim was changed from what it was to what it is. Svartaflheim was not a habited planet, but it was because it was one of the Nine that Malekith picked it.” Not a flicker of emotion showed on Sigyn’s face at the mention of Malekith and Loki admitted he was impressed at her control. “Vanaheim’s flow has been devastated, Asgard is locked away, and I know that Muspelheim has been suffering its own brand of issues, with the flow of the fires thrown into turmoil.”

Sina gave her a look that suggested that that information had been given in confidence, but nodded when Aetril looked at him questioningly.

“The balance of Yggdrasil is damaged. If we do not do something to fix it, we could find that it is unrepairable and thus our realms are doomed.” said Sigyn calmly. There was a tense silence as they looked between them, then back at her.

“But you have a solution,” said Berach in a prodding manner that reminded Loki of a teacher pushing their student to an answer. Maybe he could not help it when talking to his old –and if rumours were true favourite –student.

“I believe so, but it’s complicated.” Sigyn was still watching the gently rotating Yggdrasil. “We need to use the convergence to stimulate the natural power of the realms and encourage the realms to reassert themselves. In theory the ritual would sooth the damaged pathways around Asgard, it would reinvigorate Jötunheim’s environment and settle the upset in Muspelheim. As for Vanaheim, it is my hope that it would help soothe the pollution and environmental damage from the invasion and help my people resume our usual growth of food and animals.”

“… seems too good to be true,” said Aetril and Loki nodded in agreement.

“I’ve never heard of such a ritual, and I like to think of myself as rather learned,” said Berach, frowning at Sigyn.

“You’ve never heard of it because it has never been done,” said Sigyn, finally looking at him. “It was only ever a theory, suggested by some of Vanaheim’s best and brightest scholars.”

“A theory!” scoffed Farbauti, “My people have a better solution than a theory to solve our issues.” She looked at Loki, and he met her gaze without flinching.

“That is why I have not wasted time in wheedling favour with any of you before presenting it,” said Sigyn in a sharp voice, “I’m offering this information to all of you, so your seiðr wielders can study it and see if it is truly valid. My people believe it is, but we need the Nine behind us.”

“You speak of the Nine, there are only seven of us here,” said Fullangr, arching a bushy eyebrow.

“Well, that is the other issue, because according to everything my people and myself have done, there is only one place the ritual can be done.”

Another dot appeared and Loki swallowed as eyes slowly turn to him.

“Midgard.”

“Yes, Midgard will be right in the centre of the convergence. From there we can trigger a chain reaction that will filter through the realms and help restore all of them to their true forms, so to speak.”

“That’s still only eight –or can’t you count?” said Farbauti irritably.

“The ninth realm is Niflheim, do you really expect it to participate?” asked Aetril, her wings twitching.

“Niflheim exists within its own dimensional pocket, both a part and apart,” said Loki.

“But Queen Sigyn said we will need all Nine. How exactly do you intend to have Niflheim participate?” asked Sina, raising a hand languidly.

“I’m sure King Loki could arrange something, given that his daughter is the sovereign ruler of that realm.” said Sigyn, turning to Loki and raising her eyebrows.

Almost every single head snapped to stare at Loki who, was rather startled to find himself under such scrutiny, and he remembered that while Asgard had had three years to get used to that little fact, it was new to most of these people.

“What?” asked Berach. Aetril let out a burst of giggles and covered her mouth as she cried,

“I’d forgotten about that!”

“You’re the father of the ruler of Niflheim?” asked Sina, mouth hanging open slightly. Loki drew himself up, feeling the fierce pride on his face,

“I am, she is Hel Lokadottir, my second born, sister to Prince Jörmungandr and Prince Fenrir, Queen of Niflheim, and Princess of Asgard.”

“I… I… how?” uttered Fullangr, sounding dazed.

“That is my business,” said Loki smugly.

“In any case, I don’t think Niflheim is instrumental to the purpose. Whomever determined that these were the realms that were a part of the Nine Realms, they included Niflheim, but I don’t believe it can be influenced the way the rest of us can –has anyone ever been there without actually dying?” Sigyn raised an eyebrow as she looked around.

“But, a ritual this large would no doubt attract attention,” said Berach, his eyes moving between Sigyn and Loki, arching an eyebrow. “The Midgardians would notice.”

“I would not expect to keep them in ignorance,” she said, smirking faintly at him before looking at Loki with an almost playful expression as she leaned back in her chair. Loki’s eyes widened in understanding as he stared into her hard eyes and he stiffened his spine.

“You want to make them aware of the Nine Realms?”

“Well, considering your brother is living among them, I think that at least a few are aware, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but that is not the same as making the world aware.”

“Why should the world not know?” asked Sina.

“I’m not sure that Midgard is ready for such a revelation,” said Loki honestly.

“And are you really the only one who can make such a judgement?” asked Farbauti.

“I think that since I have more experience with Midgard than any of you, I would know how the realm would deal with the revelation best.”

“Really? You know more than anyone at this table?” asked Sigyn, raising her eyebrows curiously. Loki sighed,

“Well, with one exception.”

The curious eyes now turned to Sigyn.

“You have been to Midgard?” asked Berach, his voice flat, as if suppressing a lot of emotions. Sigyn nodded,

“I have.”

“I thought it was illegal for people to travel to Midgard, as decreed by Asgard, just as with Jötunheim,” said Sina.

“It was, but myself and King Loki were not ordinary people, we decided that the rules did not apply to us.”

Loki covered a wince, though inside his stomach was starting to roll. Midgard had been his and Sigyn’s special place, if such a claim could be made about a whole planet, and here she was just giving it up.

“In any case, that was then, this is now,” said Sigyn, her voice sounding rather far away to him. “What I am proposing is that we make contact with the middle realm, and invite them to become a part of the wider universe, or at least our little part of it. In exchange we will offer them something they will not refuse.”

“And what might that be?” asked Aetril, her pretty face drawn in a stern expression Loki associated with a seiðr mystery.

“Midgard is currently suffering from unnatural climactic changes, brought on by their own hubris. This ritual, much like with Vanaheim and Asgard will undo some of the damage, buying them more time to solve their problems. If we can convince them of our sincerity and that, ‘yes, magic is indeed real, kindly don’t try to burn us at the stake’, we would be able to soothe the wounds in their atmosphere –and in fact I believe that Jötunheim will be able to aid them even further, with their ice magic.” Sigyn inclined her head to Farbauti, who cocked her head to the side curiously.

Loki, however, had had enough.

“Midgard is under Asgard’s protection. You have no right to start making assumptions and plans about it like this Queen Sigyn,” he snapped.

“Is that what you call it?” asked Farbauti, “Protection. Is that what you call Jötunheim’s isolation from the other realms for centuries?”

“You invaded Midgard, you tried to upset the balance of power in the Realms-” Loki started in as calm a voice as he could manage.

“I would have thought that any concept of the balance of power in the realms was already upset when Asgard blew itself into existence,” said Farbauti curtly. “And from my readings the realms were not half as divided or contrarian before Asgard came along.”

“That is a gross exaggeration,” said Loki, bristling. “It’s so easy to blame all your problems on a realm in power, than look inward to your own failings, isn’t it, Dowager Queen.”

“Our failings? We would not be in the state we are in if your father had left the Casket where it ought to have been!” snarled Farbauti.

“While I have no love for the chill of Jötunheim, it is true that Muspelheim does consider that action rather in excess of the crime,” said Sina in a low voice.

“Agreed,” said Fullangr, fiddling with a gold ring on her finger. “My people tell great stories of our trading with Jötunheim before the war, and long for such myths to return.”

Loki looked around, wondering if this had been Sigyn’s plan, to have the other realms unite against him. He forced his hand to remain flat on the table and not contract into a fist.

“Jötunheim’s difficulties do not lie solely with Asgard’s actions. Besides which, as I told you already, you had a chance to earn the Casket back, and your son failed the test.”

“It was not a test for you to give!” snapped Farbauti. “You cannot keep Jötunheim’s heart away from its body! It is a crime above all others.”

Loki drew himself up and turned to face her more fully. “I would remind you that I was born at the end of the war, I did not make the choice to take the Casket of Ancient Winters. Yet I have not seen any reason that you deserve to be trusted, not when your son acted as a petty thief, not a noble prince, acting with all the cowardice of King Laufey. Why should I trust your family with that power that you abused before?”

“Why should Asgard be allowed to hold the power instead?”

“Asgard has no need of it, we have power enough, doubly so since I created its equal and opposite in my Casket of Primal Fire. Therefore we are the best to keep it safe, and unused.”

“It was made to sing, to shine and beat as the heart of Jötunheim. Not to pretty up whatever shelf you’ve left it upon gathering dust,” said Farbauti.

Loki sighed, “I gave you an honest chance. You failed.”

Sigyn leaned forward,

“That does not mean more chances cannot be earned, correct?”

Both Loki and Farbauti looked to Sigyn, who smiled amicably.

“After all, it is understandable that Asgard would be fearful that such a powerful object would be turned on them, or someone else as soon as it has been returned, but equally, it would be cruel to deny the people of Jötunheim their rightful relic. So, perhaps my suggestion could be seen as a way for the two worlds to try and find common ground. You’ve been at odds so long, you can’t see each other as people any more. So come and let the rest of us be a buffer between you, and in time, I hope, we will find that all our realms are on a more equal platform.”

“Jötunheim has suffered a long time, it would be cruel for you to hold the Casket much longer,” said Berach, glancing at his mother for a moment, then at Sigyn, “Yet, I think Queen Sigyn’s suggestion is best for both sides, however difficult you may find the terms Queen Farbauti, establishing a new relationship between your realms and the rest of us is the best thing.”

“Agreed,” said Aetril, “It’s time to re-establish the balance of power in the realms, we cannot continue as we have done.”

“I have no objections to new alliances, better relationships forged between our various realms,” said Loki quickly, feeling slightly alarmed now, “But I would point out that the realms have never known an era of peace as long as the one that ensued since my father defeated Jötunheim. It’s all very well to dislike the man on top, but don’t forget that that man has ensured the safety of your realms. Even Jötunheim was protected, because Asgard ensured that no one could attack you while you were weaker.”

“Hm, but then again, that wasn’t you, was it King Loki?” asked Sigyn, once more drawing all the eyes to herself. “That was Odin, and you are not Odin, are you?”

Loki felt like a block of ice had dropped into his stomach as he stared at her, swallowing hard,

“No. No I am not Odin.”

“So that claim cannot be attributed to your rule.”

It would be foolish to argue that point, so Loki said nothing, simply leaning back and folding his hands in his lap.

“As I said, I have no objections to new alliances between our realms, but I will not allow Asgard to be condemned for being powerful.”

No one contradicted him, so he felt he had some measure of victory there.

“That sounds like an agreement to my suggestions,” said Sigyn with a sweet smile. Loki furrowed his brow,

“Excuse me?”

“If you have no objections to new alliances, then surely we are free to make contact with Midgard, and explore the possibility of this ritual.”

“Well… yes, I suppose I do.” In that instant Loki decided to give her what she wanted. It would be foolish to be stubborn for the sake of pride. Had he not suggested this very possibility to Sigyn when he had become king? A universe where the realms came together just like this to discuss the workings of the realms. “But I would advise caution. As you yourself put it already, they might try to kill us as easily as welcome us. They are a very… difficult race.”

“That, I’m sure we can all agree on,” said Sigyn with a soft laugh. “So, what say Alfheim?”

“I need to study this ritual, but the rest I would have no objection to,” said Berach, looking to his mother.

“Agreed, there is certainly merit to it all, but we would need to study it thoroughly. What you speak of is highly dangerous,” said Aetril, her tone edging motherly caution.

“I’m well aware that it is, but that does not mean it is not worthwhile,” said Sigyn, lifting her chin.

“I will bring it to my master,” said Sina.

“As will I,” said Fullangr.

“You’ll bring it to your scientists, right Enfys?” called Sigyn down the table. The dökkálfr nodded, hardly daring to look up from the table. “Dowager Queen Farbauti?”

Farbauti nodded, but did not look pleased, “Without the Casket, I doubt my people will be able to do or gain much from your plan.”

“Then that is something to work towards,” said Sigyn, looking around the table expectantly. There were general murmurs of agreement and she smiled more genuinely than Loki had yet seen. “Then I would hope to hear from you all in the next six days, for time is of the essence, if we are to ensure we can prepare for this ritual properly.” She stood up, hands resting on the table, “If you have any questions, please come to me, and know that I will be more than happy to aid you with any discussions between you as well. In the meantime, Queen Aetril asked if there was any chance of paying respect to my parents. Their bodies lie in state in the temple that stands between the mountain peaks and the coastline to the east, an hour’s walk from here. Feel free to go there, to speak to my people as you wish, before you return to your realms. I will be busy for the rest of the day, so I will say goodbye to you all now. Please forgive the lack of ceremony, but I really do not have the time to spare.”

“Of course,” said Berach, bowing his head to her. No one else spoke; Loki did not have anything to say. He did not care to visit Sigyn’s parents, instead he wanted to stay near to her. Yet he knew he had to go back and tell his council what he had learned. If Sigyn wanted to simply be a queen of another realm to him, he would oblige, for now. Appeasement would be his byword for a time, until he had a better idea of what he was going to do. He knew what he wanted, he just needed a plan to get it.

For the first time in almost four years, Loki felt a sense of purpose and drive, and it was like waking from a dream. He had been drifting, for better or worse, through his life, unable to make any plans or have any goals. Not anymore. He was wide awake now, and he was ready to fight.

Everything depended on just exactly who he would be fighting against. Some hidden enemy pulling the strings, or Sigyn herself, denying the truth of their lives. Either way, Loki would emerge the victor, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone’s having a better start to the New Year than I am.   
> This stuff is a bit tricky, because I am conscious of the fact that because of what I’ve done with Hel and the realms before, I’ve wrote myself into a bit of a corner, so I won’t be giving too much detail beyond what was said in this one about the Convergence and it’s mechanics. I wanted to tie into the movies again and I liked the idea of the Convergence being used to bring Midgard (and Thor, I promise!) back into the story. The rules and rhythms of magic and science in this AU are not something I worked on enough, which I regret now, but when I started I had no idea that this story would grow so much. I’ve essentially made Loki and Sigyn’s magic too useful, and Hel is the queen of the dead, but that is causing me all sorts of headaches. So who and what Hel and seiðr are in this story is not my best work–and I apologise for that. I can only say that it was never my focus, the character’s relationships are what I gave my attention to and I dearly wanted to delve into Loki and Hel’s complex relationship.   
> So if the stuff about the Convergence isn’t that strong, or contradicts what I’ve written before, I’m sorry, but I really wanted to tell this story and I didn’t want to let an issue with a small plot device get in the way of the story I wanted to tell.   
> And in case you’re wondering: No, this will not fix Global warming with a magical handwave –It might just buy Earth a few more decades. I still have some pride not to jump for the Deus Ex Machina with stuff like that. :-D


	16. Back to Asgard

**Chapter 16 –Back to Asgard**

It was a physical pain in Loki’s chest as he was sent from Vanaheim back to Asgard. He glanced back at the soft shimmer of colour that disappeared in the blink of an eye and sighed. Heimdall stepped forward,

“Welcome back, my king.”

Loki turned to him,

“Did you see much of what went on there?”

“No.”

“No?”

Heimdall pulled an expression that seemed almost petulant,

“My gaze is being blocked by whatever Vanaheim has been concealed by since the beginning. I could see nothing at all.”

“Well, that’s annoying,” said Loki, not entirely surprised. “Then again, perhaps it’s for the best. If you saw the state of Vanaheim after Malekith’s invasion, you might weep.”

Heimdall’s petulance vanished and his eyes widened slightly, “It is truly so terrible?”

“What I saw was abysmal. All the green is gone,” said Loki heavily, swinging Mjölnir in his hand. “So many are dead and… it was so poor Heimdall. A palace to the Vanir is little better than a manor house of a town chief here. I would feel embarrassed to bring them here and show off the wealth of Asgard.”

“What aid will you give?” asked Heimdall.

“I don’t know, Sigyn did not give me much to suggest she wanted help.”

“How is she?”

“…different. Harder I suppose. She doesn’t really look like herself.”

“I take it she did not receive you well?”

“No, she did not,” said Loki, scowling at the floor. Heimdall chuckled, a sound he had not expected. Loki looked up at him.

“My king you look just as you did as a boy, when Thor would deny you the opportunity to come along with him.”

Loki huffed and squared his shoulders.

“How was Asgard?”

“Safe, though you should know that several of the jarls you removed from power are gathering to grumble. It would be wise to ensure that there is no reason for others to join them.”

Loki groaned, the last thing he wanted to think about were those jarls.

“Keep an eye on them for me. Since you can’t see Vanaheim, I’ll need to send Mýrkjartan.”

“My king,” said Heimdall, bowing his head slightly. Loki walked out of the observatory, then span Mjölnir in his hand, letting her lift him up into the air. It was so late that the city was asleep beneath him, and he just wanted to get home to see his sons. Mjölnir was not his favourite way to travel, but she was quick and in moments he was landing on his own balcony. He pushed the door open and set Mjölnir next to it, making quick work of his vambraces and tossing them on the nearby desk. He headed for the door to Jörmungandr’s room, when he heard a soft sigh.

Whirling around, Loki found Hlin sleeping in his bed, Fenrir sleeping on her chest. Jörmungandr was asleep next to her, arm around her stomach. It was a sight that made Loki feel jealous, annoyed and endeared in the same instant. Why were they in his bed? How dare Hlin invade his privacy again! How sweet they looked like this, like they had been waiting for him to come home. Loki swallowed and sat on the edge of the bed, the action jostling Hlin enough to make her open her eyes. She looked slightly alarmed to find Loki there and licked her lips.

“My king… I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t like us here, but Jörmungandr couldn’t sleep in his own bed, nor mine. He only settled here, but didn’t want me to leave.”

“It’s fine,” said Loki. It was not really, he felt the sting of invasion, but compared to everything else that had happened the past two days it was a minor thing. He stood up and waved his hand, changing his clothes to sleeping garments. He reached out and scooped up Fenrir from Hlin’s chest, holding the babe to his own and pressing kisses to the soft downy hair. Fenrir squirmed and let out a soft keen at being disturbed, but he settled quickly. Loki pressed his nose to the top of his head and inhaled that soft scent that all babies seemed to have. Hlin eased herself off the bed, curtsied and left without another word. Loki moved into her place, Fenrir splayed on his chest, Jörmungandr snuggling against him and sighing in his sleep. Loki played with his oldest’s hair, it was thick and heavy in his fingers, shaggy as a dog’s almost. A shared feature between his boys maybe.

Jörmungandr yawned and lifted his head, blinking blearily up at Loki.

“Papa?”

“Yes Jör, I’m here.”

Jörmungandr smiled and snuggled closer, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” said Loki, squeezing his skinny shoulder.

“Did you bring me something from Vanaheim?”

“I’m afraid not, but I do have a treat for you.”

“Mmm?” Jörmungandr smiled blearily, nuzzling his head into Loki’s ribs.

“I’m going to let you be a snake for the day, if you want?”

Jörmungandr lifted his head, eyes wide with glee.

“Really?”

“Yes, I think you’re ready to try it.”

It had been on Loki’s mind for a while, but he had not indulged it, afraid of what might go wrong. Yet if Jörmungandr was not allowed to practise switching between his natural forms, he would never learn to control them. Loki had discouraged his son with words and seiðr from shifting, not wanting him to retreat back into that form the way he had once before. Yet, by denying his son the freedom to be what he was, how was Loki any better than Odin?

“Can I change now Papa?” asked Jörmungandr in an awed whisper.

“If you like.”

Jörmungandr shivered, then his hand slid away from Loki’s stomach and his temperature cooled. In serpent form Jörmungandr was no longer than Loki’s whole arm and he curled up in the space where he had lain before, hissing softly in contentment. Loki curled his hand around the curve of the long body and smiled when he felt the tickle of a forked tongue.

“My clever boy.”

**~*~**

Jörmungandr napped on Loki’s shoulders as Loki told the council what he had seen and what Sigyn had proposed. They all looked by turns appalled, intrigued and indignant.

“She tried to turn them all against you!” said Dag in outrage.

“Of course she did, she wants me on the back foot. If I’m weak she has a better chance of getting what she wants,” said Loki calmly.

“She certainly asks for a lot!” said Ragnalfr with a toss of her head.

“Do you intend to give it to her?” asked Sverrir softly. Loki hesitated before saying,

“I do, at least I intend to give her Vanir independence.”

“But my king that seems excessive!”

“It’s not as if I’m about to roll over for her, we’ll make sure Asgard benefits from the new situation. As it is, Vanaheim won’t be in a position to offer us much for a long time, so we won’t be losing much.”

“But if the queen is trying to undermine you, would it not seem weak to hand over Vanaheim’s independence?” asked Dag.

“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. I think Vanaheim would appreciate the gesture, it won’t cost us anything, and it would show the other realms that we are not the conquering villain as they perceive us. I cannot, and do not want to, be seen the way Odin is seen.”

The council murmured in agreement, then Sverrir said,

“So what will you ask for?”

“I’m not sure yet. There’s nothing Vanaheim can offer us for the time being.”

“Are they really so destitute?” asked Ragnalfr.

“Painfully so.”

“And this ritual will help them restore their realm’s fertility?” asked Sverrir.

“So Sigyn says, I need to read into this ritual before I can give an educated response. I’ll also have the Seiðr Academy investigate it, and my mother. It’s such a large scaled ritual that if it’s wrong… I don’t want to think of the consequences.”

Jörmungandr stirred on his shoulder and pressed his head to Loki’s neck. Loki reached up and stroked his ridges. His son slid down Loki’s chest and into his lap, giving a shake and turning back into his Ás form, yawning and resting his head against Loki’s chest. Loki wrapped his arms around him,

“Something wrong son?”

“Mmm, don’t wanna be a serpent anymore, makes me sleepy,” Jörmungandr mumbled, his hand curling into Loki’s shirt. Something that had been clenched tight in Loki’s chest relaxed at once and he smiled down at his son, stroking his cheek with the back of a finger. As he did an idea came to him and he looked up,

“What if Asgard offered to take in orphaned children from Vanaheim? We could send the ones with seiðr skill to the Academy, perhaps some of them could be adopted by Asgardians.”

Sverrir’s eyebrow twitched, clearly surprised that Loki would suggest this. Loki could understand why, his own adoption was something he still tried to avoid thinking about, but this was different.

“I’m not sure the Vanir would appreciate the idea of Asgardians taking children, no matter what our intentions are,” said Dag.

“Perhaps not now, but when we’ve sorted out the negotiations regarding Vanaheim’s independence, it might be something to consider.” Loki stood up with Jörmungandr in his arms. “Reifer, I want you and Dag to look into the current treaty, Ragnalfr could you look into amassing packs of medicines, especially healing stones with Eir to send to Vanaheim. Sverrir, talk to the Academy.”

They nodded and Loki left with Jörmungandr snoring on his shoulder. He walked with him to the Healing Room and beckoned Eir to a private corner.

“He’s very tired from being a serpent today, he’s never been tired before. Should I be worried?” he asked without preamble. Eir considered the question, peering at Jorumgandr’s face, then said,

“I don’t think so. Even natural skills can become more difficult if they are not used for a time. If you like I can run a scan on him, just to be sure.”

“Do it,” said Loki, trying to suppress his anxiety.

Jörmungandr slept through the scan, but Eir declared him fit as any boy of five could be.

“And no change in his height?” Loki asked as he gathered him up.

“No, and if it does not happen soon I would suggest we look into… assistants for the issue.”

“You think he’ll need them?”

“I would worry about the lasting damage not aging at a normal rate could have on his mind. He still acts like a five year old, but he’s learning, so he’s not just stuck. Besides, as sweet as he is, we don’t want him to be this age forever, do we? Nor do we want Fenrir to never be able to lift his own head.” Eir gave him an expectant look and he nodded.

“Yes, of course, I’d just be hesitant about pushing him,” said Loki.

“We’ll go very gently,” Eir promised him. Loki nodded and left to put Jörmungandr to bed. Then he went out to the central room and picked up the tablet to start researching Sigyn’s plan. After an hour, he set it aside and rubbed at his eyes. He could not concentrate on anything, not when he kept going back to the last two days. He held up his right palm and drew with his left finger a summoning rune, calling softly,

“Mýrkjartan.”

In minutes his spymaster walked in and knelt to him.

“My king summoned me.”

“I want you to go with my mother to Vanaheim at the next opportunity. I believe Queen Sigyn is being controlled by someone who is pleased to hide in the shadows.” He thought about Rasil, and said quickly, “Look into the man called Rasil, I don’t like him.”

“Of course my king. If I may ask, my abilities would be greatly aided if I could change my shape as you can. Is there a way you could give me such a skill?” Mýrkjartan looked up at him hopefully and Loki cocked his head to the side.

“I could…”

“My king, do you think I would misuse the skill?” asked Mýrkjartan, and he looked genuinely upset at the idea. Loki shook his head,

“No, not really. It’s just I’ve never been asked for such a thing before.”

“Asgard has never respected your skills as I do.”

Respect was not the word for what Mýrkjartan felt for Loki, they both knew it. It was all the more intense, and Loki had never known what to do with it. Such devotion could turn so easily to hate, Loki knew that from his own anger towards Odin and Thor, whom he had loved with similar, if platonic, intensity. Yet he did not think he had to fear such a thing from Mýrkjartan.

“I can fashion some skins that, when they touch your flesh, will transform you into the animal. Do you have any preferences?”

“A mouse would be ideal, and a cat maybe? And a bird, so I can travel easily.”

“That should be doable. Whatever other equipment you need, get. I don’t care about the expense.”

“My king,” said Mýrkjartan with a deep bow so he almost kissed the ground.

“Queen Sigyn has asked for a reply to her proposal in six days’ time. You will go with whomever I send.”

“You don’t plan on going yourself?” asked Mýrkjartan.

“I haven’t decided,” said Loki honestly.

Mýrkjartan did not react, he simply bowed once more and left the room. Loki yawned and got to his feet, walking into his study. He had not had much time to use it until now, but now he started to look through his cupboards for skins to enchant. As he rooted through a chest that smelled like he had not opened it in several decades, there was a knock on his door.

“Come.”

Frigga entered, smiling at him and kissing his cheek in greeting. Loki gave her a weak smile and turned back to the chest.

“How is Vanaheim? How is Sigyn?”

Loki kept rummaging in the chest as he said, “I won’t lie mother, it’s not good. So much devastation… it could take them hundreds of years to recover.”

He sensed Frigga tense behind him then she said, “And Sigyn?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Frigga’s hand touched his head, making him still. He did not want to look at her.

“Loki…”

“She’s completely changed. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” he said in a rush, fingers tightening around something furry. He pulled on it and a pelt came out from the bottom of the chest. It came out with a tumble of other items and Loki fell over onto his rump. Frigga steadied him, crouching next to him,

“Are you alright?”

“She hates me!” Loki burst out, bunching the pelt in his hands. “She called our marriage a lie, a fantasy! She doesn’t want to be around me.”

“Oh Loki, I’m sorry.”

“I should have listened to you mother, I should have tempered my hopes.”

Frigga chuckled and kissed his temple,

“You would not be who you are if you listened to anyone.” She stroked his hair, then squeezed his arm. Loki inhaled deeply, swallowing hard. “Now, tell me what happened,” said Frigga.

Loki told her everything, clutching at the pelt in his hands. Frigga listened without saying anything, until he was finished, then said,

“Do you remember what I told you? Treat her as a friend, not a lover, until things have calmed.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” said Loki.

“Of course you do, from what you’ve told me you are not lovers alone, you are the closest of friends. Put aside the part of your relationship that is sexual, remember why you two were drawn together when you were children. That is what she will need in the coming days, and if you offer it, she will see that you see her as more than a bed partner.”

“She knows-”

“She knew. That sort of thing can be lost or forgotten, especially after such a terrible trauma. Her world has been turned upside down, and when we last saw her she was already doubting herself, fearing she could not be your wife and Vanaheim’s queen. If she turned on you to keep her sanity during the invasion, that is not cruel, it is survival.” Frigga stared into his face, her own boarding on lecturing, “You must find in you a patience that you have never had before. This is going to take time. Focus on Vanaheim, focus on healing and nurturing the realm, and with that you will find Sigyn comes to trust you.”

Loki swallowed and nodded. He knew she was right, she was voicing his own thoughts, but hearing them made it more real. His drive to regain Sigyn would need to be redirected to a broader plan.

“What do you think about Midgard?” he asked her.

“You know it better than I, do you think they are ready to face the other realms?”

“Do you think we have the right to make that decision for them?”

Frigga smiled, “That’s a good question. Your father would probably say that they are not ready. He has no love for the mortals, I believe he once described them as little better than goats. You know them better, don’t you?”

Loki nodded, “They are… fond of conflict –or perhaps I should say, they take issue with any and all differences found among them. I don’t know how they will react to the Jötunn, or the people of Muspelheim, so visibly different to them. Not to mention that they once worshipped us as gods, and I can’t remember any visit I ever made where there was not a conflict over which god was the true god. I would be afraid that they would dissolve into anarchy if we came down upon them.”

“All valid fears, but as you say, do we have the right to decide for them. If they wish to murder each other over the revelation, that will be their choice,” said Frigga, reaching up and cupping his chin in her hand. “Now, why don’t you get off the floor, before your legs get stiff?”

Loki chuckled and got to his feet. He looked down and saw the pelt in his hands, his smile fading.

“Thor gave me this,” he murmured, “From his very first hunt, when he got that big black bear.”

“He was so proud of it,” said Frigga, stroking the pelt. “It made him happy to give it to you.”

“I was surprised he thought of me, but I did love it,” said Loki.

“He thought the world of you Loki, I’m sure he still does.”

“He preferred his friends.”

“As you preferred Sigyn?”

Loki blinked at her, then gave a mirthless smirk, “Point.”

Frigga looked away, “He should be home, surely by now he has learned whatever lesson your father intended for him to learn.”

“We currently don’t have access to Midgard from Asgard. Vanaheim might be able to reach it, and that’s probably what Sigyn has planned. If she can, I’ll make contact with Thor. You’re right, it’s been too long since we last had contact with him, only…”

“What?”

Loki swallowed and looked down at the pelt, “If I bring Thor back, by Asgardian law, he must become king.”

Frigga nodded, “Yes, but I thought you do not wish to be king.”

“I don’t… mother I would give much to hand this duty over to someone else. Yet I can’t trust that Thor, or Odin, will not just overturn all the changes I have made. If that happens… all my thralls go back to being out-laws, husbands are free to batter their wives without fear of punishment, the jarls I tore down can rise again. My academy will be closed, seiðr users will have to hide again and-”

“Shhh, Loki.” Frigga cupped his face in her hands again and kissed his brow, “My boy, I don’t think it will be so terrible.”

“How can you say that? Odin let all those people suffer, because he did not care for them, he will want to go backwards, and Thor is so like him, he won’t care.”

“You don’t know that. Loki, you must recognise that your father and brother are just as capable of change as anyone.”

“Really? Well, Thor never listened to me, and neither did Odin, so why should I trust them to hear me now?”

“Because you will all be changed from this experience. You are more confident and outward than you have ever been, and I can only imagine what Thor has become. As for Odin, you told me that Fenrir’s collar had to feed Odin’s rage, fear and pain back into him. As such emotions changed Sigyn, I do not doubt your father will have changed.”

Loki wanted to believe her, he wanted it to be true, that he would be able to hand over the throne without fear of his changes being undone. Yet if he ceased to be king now, how would he ensure what he wanted to happen would come to pass? He sighed and held the pelt to his chest.

“There’s no point in talking about it. Odin sleeps, and Thor is out of reach for now. I must focus on the challenges before me.”

Frigga nodded, “Yes, you’re right. But promise me that when you and your brother meet, you will tell him the truth of your relationship with Sigyn, and of your sons, and all the rest. Promise me you will give him a chance to prove himself.”

Loki hesitated before nodding. He wanted to believe Thor would have learned and grown in his time away, that he would not be so quick to let the fawning of Sif, Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun blind him to his own failings.

“Yes, I will give Thor a chance.”

“And will you do the same for your father? He loves you so much Loki, and he-”

“Thor is enough for the moment mother,” said Loki curtly. Frigga sighed and nodded,

“Very well.”

Loki stepped away from her and turned back to his seiðr items. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some work to do.”

“Of course, will I see you and the boys at dinner?”

“Jörmungandr is asleep at the moment, but if he’s well enough, we’ll be there.”

Frigga squeezed his arm once more before leaving him alone. Loki hugged the pelt to his chest for a moment, remembering how Thor had thrown it around his shoulders in the Great Hall at the celebration feast. Loki had been stunned at the gesture, and the size of the pelt, which had nearly swallowed him up. Thor had borne a set of claw marks on his arm, and had laughed off Loki’s concern, but hugged him tight at the same moment. It had only been a year since Loki had come home from Angrboda, and he had been withdrawn from everyone.

Looking back on it, Loki knew Thor had wanted to bring him back into the light. Unknowing of the truth, Thor had not known how to help. An ache in Loki’s stomach pulsed, making him realise just how much he had missed his brother. He wished he could bring Thor home, to introduce him to Loki’s sons, to give him some of the burden of kingship… to hear his voice again. That deep rumble that had filled the halls of the palace. Loki wondered if it would ring in celebration, or rumble in condemnation when he saw what Loki had done to change Asgard. He honestly did not know, and was glad for Thor’s absence, so he did not have to deal with that fear just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the seemingly filler chapter -there were a few bits that I needed to put in here. More soon!


	17. Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually two separate chapters but I felt they belonged together, and the first one was too short. And yes, I did hear all the people begging for more Thor. I just wanted to make sure he was properly used, and I debated heavily with the idea of a new detail about Thor that goes in here. In the end I thought this was the best thing to do with his character.   
> Enjoy!

Loki agreed to send his mother in his place back to Vanaheim. He needed someone more objective to deal with Sigyn, someone with great skill in seiðr, who understood what Sigyn’s plan actually meant. Mýrkjartan had gone with her, cloaked in a mouse-skin Loki had made for him he had slipped into Frigga’s pocket. That had been a bit odd to witness. Yet Loki reassured himself that Mýrkjartan was now scurrying around Sigyn’s would-be palace, finding out exactly what was going on.

Jörmungandr was in the best mood Loki had seen him in for months. Apparently his time as a serpent had done him some good. Loki wondered if a regular amount of shifting would be good for him. Loki was naturally inclined to shape-shifting, and he knew now that he had been able to do it from birth to an extent, but only between his vanir form and his jötunn form depending on who was holding him. Odin had been the one to lock Loki into his vanir form and Loki had never missed his jötunn one. However, he wondered if Jörmungandr and Fenrir were different. Jörmungandr had loved being a serpent as a babe, switching between his forms seemingly depending on his mood. Fenrir was most often a wolf-pup when he was in a negative mood, be it frightened, hungry, cold or anything else. It was as if shifting was a bodily function, like breathing for them. Something they could no more stop than halting their beating hearts.

Loki put this to Eir and Ragnalfr.

“If this is the case, it can’t be good for Jörmungandr not to spend time in both forms,” said Eir, tapping her fingernails on her desk.

“I discouraged Jörmungandr from being a serpent because I feared he would descend into it completely as he did before when home was strange and new. I only change shape when I have use of it –it never occurred to me that Jörmungandr would have a need to change like that, but I can’t deny he seems much happier after a few hours in that form.”

“It may be wise to give him a few hours every few days as a serpent, then he will build up his strength and possibly be more comfortable,” said Ragnalfr.

“But what if he prefers life as a serpent?” asked Loki in concern.

“He did that because of a trauma, I highly doubt he’ll do it again, if nothing else, you are much better equipped to deal with the situation than you were the first time.” Eir smiled at him knowingly. Loki nodded; it was true that it had been a unique and terrible time when Jörmungandr had retreated. Unless something equally terrible happened again, and Loki was not there, maybe there was no reason to fear the serpent form. And if it made Jörmungandr happy…

“I’ll talk to him.”

Loki dealt with a series of petitioners that day, including two women who wanted divorces from their husbands for ill treatment. Loki heard the testimony and granted them their requests, including custody of their children. After that he did paperwork he had been avoiding for weeks. Taxes, updates, requests, harvests, fish populations, weather reports, it was endless and boring.

So naturally, Loki made Sverrir help him.

“I hate you,” Sverrir grumbled after four hours.

“No you don’t. I give you too many perks,” said Loki, not looking up from his work.

“What perks?” grunted Sverrir.

“Is there something you’d like?” asked Loki, raising an eyebrow. Sverrir straightened up next to him,

“Actually…”

Loki looked up expectantly, Sverrir had a slightly embarrassed smile on his face as he turned to face Loki fully.

“I’ll need to take a break from this place.”

“A break?”

“Not for a while, but in about… eleven months?”

Loki stared at him uncomprehending for a long time, while Sverrir kept smiling at him in that shy, pleased with himself way. Then it dawned on him, and he pointed at Sverrir, mouth falling open.

“Are you… is Ilmr…?”

“Pregnant? Yes, she is, we’re having another child.”

Loki struggled for a moment, then grinned at him,

“That’s wonderful! Congratulations.”

Sverrir grinned bashfully, “Thank you, I’m still reeling a bit. I’m not sure I can handle any more children.”

“Well, do you think they’ll end up ruling the realm of the dead, swimming through Midgard’s seas as a giant serpent or grow into a giant wolf that is unable to stand?”

“Uh… no?” Sverrir sounded like it was a question.

“Then you’ll be fine,” said Loki.

Sverrir smiled, bowing his head shyly. “I hope so, but I could use some time off when the baby comes.”

Loki made himself sigh loudly and sit back, “Well, I suppose you have earned it.” Then he grinned at Sverrir who laughed and squeezed his arm,

“Thank you my king!”

Loki waved him away, “Think nothing of it.”

Sverrir practically bounced through the rest of the paperwork, chatting away about his and Ilmr’s plans to build a new nursery for the baby. Loki listened, but his attention quickly wandered. He was wrestling with a feeling of jealousy that he knew was unfair, but could not avoid.

Sverrir left once the work was done, and Loki remained where he was, staring out at the city. He knew Sverrir did not take his family for granted, otherwise he would probably feel a flood of spiteful jealousy. He stared morosely out the window, then stood up and went to his chambers. Fenrir was wailing, his small hands rubbing at his face, tiny and sharp nails leaving red marks on his face.

“He’s got an upset stomach I think,” said Hlin, rubbing Fenrir’s back.

“Where’s Jörmungandr?”

“In his bedroom, playing with Thundi.”

Loki took Fenrir from Hlin and had him stand on Loki’s thigh, holding him upright in one hand, tucked under his sticky chin, and patted his back. After a few minutes, Fenrir’s chin was covered in white sick, and he gagged a little. Loki, who was used to Fenrir suffering from a bit of reflux, wiped away the spit up and gently rubbed Fenrir’s back until he stopped crying and seemed to be out of sick to bring up.

“Has he been like this all day?” he asked Hlin, glancing up just in time to see her watching him with a tender expression that she quickly hid from him. She nodded,

“Yes, he’s been uncomfortable, but Eir did not think it was bad enough to do anything about. It’s just something the poor thing will have to put up with.”

Loki nodded. Eir was very good at her job, and she was a firm believer in not interfering with mild issues, asserting that too much intervention could lead to unforeseen problems. Loki trusted her enough to go along with this assertion… most of the time.

“I’ll hold him for a bit, he likes to stand, don’t you Fenrir?” he smiled as his son blinked up at him, occasionally shifting his small feet on Loki’s lap in a kind of mimicry of walking. “Has Jörmungandr eaten?”

“Yes, he and Thundi had dinner at Reifer’s house with some other friends.”

“Other friends? What other friends?”

Hlin smiled faintly, “I think they’ve formed a little group, a few from the seiðr academy and one or two that Thundi was friends with before the Rebellion. They spend a lot of time together.”

“I’ve never met them,” said Loki, pulling faces at Fenrir who stared up at him with a bewildered expression. Probably because he still could not see very clearly, but that didn’t stop Loki amusing himself.

“I think Reifer is keeping them away from the palace, he’s making sure they, or their parents, aren’t trying to get close to you.”

“Hm, I’ll need to talk to him about that.”

Hlin smiled faintly, folding one of Fenrir’s blankets as Fenrir grabbed one of Loki’s fingers and pulled it up to his mouth, where he sucked on it happily. Loki sighed to himself and let him as Hlin set the folded blanket down next to him and pushed her hair back, relaxing against the couch. She turned her face and rubbed her cheek against Thor’s black bear pelt that Loki had thrown over the couch. Loki leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace of the moment, even as his baby son gnawed his gums on Loki’s fingertip.

“Could he be teething?” asked Hlin in a drowsy voice.

“Maybe, I don’t feel anything but that does not mean he isn’t.”

“Could explain why he’s so agitated. Must be so painful to have something try to burst out through your mouth like that.”

“I’m glad I don’t remember that,” said Loki, wrinkling his nose as some drool rolled down his finger and down towards his wrist. “I’m glad I don’t remember anything from when I was so small.”

“Why? What had you to fear?” asked Hlin, and for a moment Loki was confused, then he remembered that Hlin did not know the truth about him. She had no idea he was half jötunn, that he was not Odinson at all. He had become so used to Sverrir and his mother knowing, to Hlin knowing about Sigyn and Sigyn knowing what he was, that he had quite forgotten the fact that Hlin did not know that truth. She thought his sons were half storm giant and half Asgardian. She though Loki had been born in this palace, quietly and without ceremony, but loved and welcomed all the same.

“I would not like to be so small, so helpless in this world. Without words, without even the ability to hold my head up properly.”

“But you don’t know that you are so helpless, not when you’re that small.”

“Are you so sure?” asked Loki, looking at her with a faint smile. Hlin stared at him with a serious expression.

“Only when you get bigger do you understand that you were small. When you see beyond yourself you can realise where you really stand.”

Loki felt an uneasy sense that they were talking about something else now. Luckily Hlin was not one to drag something out –something he was coming to admire about her more and more.

“Queen Sigyn did not welcome you as you’d hoped.”

Loki’s smile fell, Hlin’s soft voice cutting right through him.

“No, no she did not,” he said looking back at his son.

“That’s a shame.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, of course it is,” said Hlin, “I know how much it meant to you.”

Loki pulled Fenrir closer, letting him splay on his stomach.

“I’ll figure a way to fix things. It’s just going to take longer than I expected.”

Hlin gave him a sad little smile, “As you say my king.”

**~*~**

The air of New York was so different from the air of Agra, or Italy, or England, and not in a way that was altogether pleasant. Nevertheless, there was a sense of returning to familiar ground for Thor as he walked into the apartment he had shared with his friends to see Sif jumping to her feet to greet him.

“Thor!”

“Sif!” Thor opened his arms and caught her as she jumped into his arms. He squeezed her tight, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair and he felt a sense of peace. He set her down before he became emotional. Sif beamed at him, then punched him in the arm.

“Ow!”

“You did not tell us you were coming!”

Thor rubbed at his bicep, which throbbed painfully.

“I am sorry Sif, but I did not know exactly when I would return.”

“Well, come, I have managed to finally find some ale that is almost as good as home, and somewhat potent. Drink and tell me of your adventures.”

Any nerves Thor had experienced before he had opened the door faded away. Sif had been the most resistant to his departure, and had not even said goodbye when he had left New York. It was a relief to be welcomed so happily.

Thor took two more steps into the room before realising there was someone else with them. It was a man he vaguely recognised from SHIELD, but could not recall ever speaking with him. He was a tall man for a Mid –human, and he was all angles, with a square jaw and a short haircut that made his head seem more square shaped, with what Thor had come to learn was called a 5 O’Clock shadow. The man stood up with the barest hint of a smile and extended his hand as Sif said,

“This is Brock Rumlow. Brock, this is Prince Thor.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Brock as Thor gripped his hand. He had a strong grip, stronger than what Thor had come to expect from humans.

“Likewise.”

Sif smiled at them both as she turned to the kitchen, “Sit!”

They obeyed and sat across from each other, Thor eying the man curiously. He was broad and thick muscled, and he was eying Thor with equal interest.

“So… how do you know Sif?” asked Thor, feeling oddly uncomfortable.

“She and I are-”

“We’re lovers,” said Sif promptly, dropping down next to Brock and setting three bottles on the table. Brock nodded,

“What she said.”

“Ah, that’s… I’m glad to hear it,” said Thor as his stomach did something funny that he was not sure what to make of. He decided to ignore it and ask, “So, I heard that Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun have all left SHIELD.”

“You heard right,” said Sif, leaning sideways to relax against Brock who put his arm around her shoulders in a manner that suggested this relationship was not new.

“But you stayed.”

“I stayed.”

“She’s the only one who could take the heat, right Sif?” said Brock with a chuckle, nudging Sif’s bottle with his own. Thor took a deep drink of his own mead just to give himself time to consider that comment. In the end, he said,

“I suppose the main thing is that they are happy where they are. I know they weren’t happy in SHIELD, not really. But you are, right Sif?”

“I was assigned to Brock’s team, it suits me far better than the Avengers,” said Sif with a smile of pride. “It’s a bit more like what we did in the old days.”

Thor smiled and nodded, “I’m glad to hear it. I want you all to be happy. You gave up a lot for me, I would not see your suffering drag on forever.”

Sif nodded, “I am happy, I did not expect to be on this planet, and there’s still a lot I don’t like, but I am happy now. I feel I have a purpose now, the way I did on Asgard.”

“I’m glad,” said Thor again. There was a moment of silence that felt somewhat awkward, and Thor finally mumbled, “So… no word from Asgard?”

“No. There’s nothing that I’ve heard. Stark and Banner were investigating the pieces of Bifröst that fell to earth, but they have not been able to use it to make their own. They say it might take decades.”

“Oh,” Thor looked down at his bottle label and picked at it with his thumbnail.

“You know if we had any news we would have told you,” said Sif.

“Yes, I know. Still, it seemed like… a fortuitous time, the end of my journey.”

“Yes, your little trip in Loki’s footsteps. How did that go?”

“It was fantastic –I saw so many things I’ve never stopped to look at before. There’s so much in this single world –I mean, Asgard is all exactly the same, but here…” Thor reached into his backpack and pulled out his camera. “I’ve so many pictures to show you!”

“Why don’t I call Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun and we can arrange a gathering, that way everyone can enjoy them?” said Sif at once. Thor beamed,

“That sounds excellent Sif, and perhaps you could invite Captain Rogers?”

“If you wish,” said Sif with a shrug, already tapping on her phone.

“I can fire up the barbeque for Volstagg,” said Brock, jerking his thumb at the balcony.

“I would like to take a shower, if you don’t mind,” said Thor, feeling abruptly awkward. This apartment felt less like his home and more like he was a guest of Sif’s, and for some reason that familiarity he had felt at seeing her seemed to be ebbing away.

“You do that while I arrange for the others to bring supplies,” said Sif with a dismissive wave of her hand. Thor picked up his backpack and shuffled off to his room. It was covered with a thick layer of dust, but he did not care as he dropped his bag and pulled out his phone. He dialled the number and held his breath as the line rang. Finally,

“Good morning, Doctor Langer’s office, how may I help you?” asked a cheerful voice.

“I would like to book an appointment with the doctor at his earliest convenience,” said Thor, feeling his voice shake slightly as he spoke.

“No problem at all, I have an appointment for tomorrow at 1pm, would that suit you?”

“Yes, that will do.”

“And your name?”

“Thor Odinson.”

“Ok Thor, and have you been with Dr Langer before?”

“Yes, but I have not been with him for over a year –I was travelling.”

“No problem, I can see that here –you’ll just have to fill in some forms for him so can you come about fifteen minutes earlier?”

“What kind of forms?”

“Just a few catch up pieces of information, if your medical history needs updating, if you’ve been prescribed any new medications, if you’ve been to see any other psychiatrists, that sort of thing.”

“Right, that’s no issue, I’ll be there at 12:45.”

“We look forward to seeing you, have a nice day Thor!”

Thor ended the call and began to peel his clothes off. He had flown from Dublin to New York, and felt rather disgusting. As he scrubbed at his hair, and contemplated a cut, he also reflected on his decision to immediately check in with Dr Langer. It had been Doctor Banner’s quiet suggestion about ten months before he had left on his travels that Thor might benefit from having someone to talk to who was employed to be neutral. Banner had explained how therapy worked and Thor, brooding, angry, bitter and hating being that way, had agreed. It had not been a pleasant experience, but Thor thought that it had helped. It had been the reason he had gone travelling in the first place.

Thor was not sure he really needed to see Dr Langer so soon, but he remembered the doctor’s advice before he left, that returning might be harder than leaving and he might find it difficult to handle. Thor had no desire to become overwhelmed now that he had some measure of peace.

Fandral arrived back at the apartment first, wearing a fine light grey suit that had obviously been made for him, just as his clothes from Asgard would have been custom made. He was clean shaven in a way that Thor had not seen since they were barely more than boys.

“Thor! Good to see you back old man!”

Thor returned the eager embrace, wrinkling his nose at the scent of perfume that was coming from his friend.

“Fandral, since when do you favour lilies?”

“Hm? Oh! Half the women I serve must bathe in the blasted flowers, I come home reeking of them!” Fandral sniffed at his shoulder with a grimace.

“Yes, Captain Rogers said you were working in… fashion?”

“I am an Image Consultant –it would seem that my ‘original style’ has provided me with an edge. I’m particularly good at helping the nobility of New York find garments for grand events –it’s not really very different to when I’d help you dress for feasts.”

Thor smiled, “And you enjoy it?”

“Do you know, I rather do. Obviously I miss being a daring warrior, but I do feel like I’ve found another skill I never appreciated before. It’s quite wonderful –and of course, I can still make use of my training. As well as dressing people I can help them reshape their bodies –you know how easily these humans run to fat if left unchecked, and they all want it gone. If I’m not squeezing them into outfits that cost a small fortune I’m running them hard so that they will fit into them.” Fandral grinned at him and winked as Thor laughed.

“Well, I am glad to hear that,”

“But come tell me about your adventures!” said Fandral.

“As soon as Volstagg and Hogun arrive.”

“They should be home any minute, I’ll make us some drinks.”

Hogun and Volstagg did indeed arrive moments later, followed by Captain Rogers, Tony Stark, Doctor Banner, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Stark waved a bottle of whiskey at him.

“Canada’s finest cinnamon liquor whiskey, have at blondie,”

Thor caught the bottle and blinked at it, “Thank you?”

“It’s been a big hit with the other guys, and Sif, I figured you’d appreciate it.”

“My thanks Stark.”

Steve gave him a strong handshake, his expression slightly tight as he looked straight at Thor’s face. Thor’s shoulders relaxed slightly and his smile softened,

“I’m fine my friend, honestly.”

“Ok,” said Steve carefully. They all gathered around the barbeque as Rumlow and Volstagg worked together to cook the meat. At first they talked about small things, getting settled with each other, and once they had all had a drink or two, Fandral clapped his hand on Thor’s shoulder and demanded he tell them about his adventures.

Thor pulled out his Starkpad and started going through the photos he had taken. There were thousands that he had whittled down to a few hundred on the plane trip here. As he explained the locations, his friends chimed in with wry and excited comments,

“Nice turban! How much does that thing weigh?”

“Wow, it really is the Emerald Isle.”

“Wait, there’s actually a castle called Frankenstein?”

“What a beautiful woman, and so dark, I’ve never seen such dark complexion anywhere but Midgard.”

“Wow, I’ve always wanted to go to Rome,” sighed Steve wistfully.

“Feel like paying the old Papa a visit?” asked Tony wryly.

“Your father lives in Rome?” Fandral asked in confusion. Steve laughed,

“No, he means the Pope –he’s the leader of the Catholic faith.”

“Oh, yes, one of your religions. Yes I remember hearing about him.”

Steve chuckled, “It’s very weird to me that you have no real knowledge of Christianity –it’s just not something you hear.”

“In fairness, had you heard of Islam before you, uh, came to the present day?” asked Banner, his wryness shifting to something a little more uncomfortable before relaxing again as Steve smiled easily.

“Of course, only I’d mostly heard about it from Syrian Catholics and Jews that’d left the Ottoman Empire –actually I’m not sure they were all from Syria, we just called them that. They weren’t popular with the Irish in Brooklyn like me and Bucky, because they tended to come in and push us out –I say us, I was only a kid when it was really an issue, so I didn’t know much.”

“I have come to understand just how divided your kind are,” said Thor, swiping to a picture he had taken of two girls, one with a head scarf tight around her face, their arms around each other. “Your divisions are many, colour, religion, ethnicity, history.”

“I’ve thought that if you had a king, as Asgard does, you would no longer be divided,” said Sif.

“Yeah, good luck finding one dude everyone agrees on,” said Tony breezily, then cocked his head, “Actually-”

“No, not you Tony, you’ve enough without being king of the world,” said Banner quickly.

“I’d be a just ruler –a little prima nocturne maybe –ow! Ok, none of that,” yelped Tony, rubbing his arm where Natasha had smacked him.

“It does not have to be one person everyone agrees on, just one person powerful enough to have the most control, and then the rest will fall into line,” said Sif.

“Is that what Odin did?”

“Not Odin, his grandfather,” said Thor as he folded his arms. “But it is something I think your world would need to consider –even if you find your own way to achieve it, having a single ruler would protect you when you enter the broader Nine Realms.”

“One ruler means there’s at least one loser,” said Steve coolly.

“Perhaps, but that does not mean the loser must suffer,” said Fandral.

“If that happens, that is your kind’s nature, not the result of the form of rule itself,” said Sif.

“Do you think it’s likely to be an issue in our lifetime?” asked Banner, perching on the arm of the couch.

“Doubtful, Midgard is under Asgard’s protection and Odin’s decree was that you would not be interfered with,” said Thor.

“I feel as if we were patronised there,” said Romanoff, mixing drinks at the bar.

“You were weaker, more primitive –you still are by the Nine Realms’ standards,” said Thor with a shrug. Getting to know humanity had not changed this simple fact. They were too divided, too short-lived and too primitive in their technology to stand up against the rest of them. Besides which- “If the Bifrost is destroyed, no one can reach you anyway.”

“Yeah, but surely that’s gonna be fixed soon, right?” asked Banner, looking around.

“That’s something I do not know,” grunted Thor, his mood quickly falling. Natasha ambled over to them and set a drink before him,

“Here big guy, have an apple pie cocktail. Now, Rumlow, where’s that burger?”

“Coming in five ma’am,” said Rumlow at once, his arm around Sif’s waist as the other hand turned the meat. The topic was dropped in favour of more of Thor’s photos. That is, until he swiped and accidentally brought up a photo of Loki and Sigyn at the Taj Mahal.

“Hey! When did your brother change ethnicities?” demanded Tony loudly over Thor’s shoulder before he could swipe away.

“He did not, he simply used his magic to alter his appearance, no doubt to fit in better,” said Thor. In the picture Loki had darkened his skin and made his features slightly less angular to make himself fit in with the Indian population. Of course Sigyn had not needed to do that, her features and colouring were much closer to those of a woman from India, save that her hair was pale –she had darkened that for the photo, which was very odd on her.

“That’s a handy skill, I’d love to have it,” said Natasha.

“Underhanded lies and tricks,” muttered Sif. Thor did not rise to the comment and no one else paid it any mind, save that Rumlow turned his head to Sif and kissed her neck.

“Anyway!” said Banner, “What did you think of the Taj Mahal?”

“Beautiful –but the land is as hot and humid as Vanaheim on a summer’s day, I did not favour that. But the air was… very fragrant.”

Banner chuckled, “Yeah, it certainly is.”

“I’m a bit envious,” said Steve, “I’d love to just go and travel the world like you did.”

“Well what’s stopping you?” asked Tony, nudging Steve’s shoulder with a swizzle stick. “You must have enough money –hell, I could pay for the trip.”

“I appreciate the offer –but I’d worry too much about what was going on here. Maybe in a few years, when I’m more used to this time and the international climate is cooler.”

“That’s about as likely as the ice caps reforming,” said Banner.

“If Rogers won’t take the offer, can I have it?” asked Barton eagerly.

“Sorry Agent Coulson Jr, it’s coded purely for Captain America,” said Tony with a smirk. Barton glowered at him, then gave an undignified squeak when Natasha poked his ribs. Thor laughed. He had missed his friends. He had met many people on his travels, but it had not been the same. As Rumlow handed him a burger, Thor reflected that it was very good to be with his friends again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Thor’s been in therapy, and I think it’s helped him a lot.


	18. Seiðr and Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning:** Sexual/Physical Assault below.

Frigga returned from Vanaheim after several days, without Mýrkjartan.

“He wanted to remain and examine a few things that had intrigued him,” she explained after the formal greeting in the Throne Room.

“Intrigued?” repeated Loki dully.

“I’m not sure he’s slept the entire time we were there. He’s an odd creature,” said Frigga, folding her cloak. Loki chuckled,

“That he is.” He turned back to his mother and regarded her grim expression. “It’s not pleasant, is it?”

Frigga’s throat visibly convulsed and she looked up at him in despair,

“Oh Loki… it’s all destroyed!”

Loki crossed the room and embraced Frigga, tucking her head under his chin.

“I know.”

Frigga clung to him for a long moment, then pulled away, looking up into his face.

“I need to talk to you about something, but you must promise me to remain calm.”

“Well… that’s not a good way to start,” said Loki wryly as his stomach starting to tie itself in a knot. Frigga pulled him to sit with her and poured him a glass of wine. “Come on mother, tell me what’s happened now.”

Frigga sighed and clasped her hands in her lap,

“Alright, I spoke with Sigyn but it was a very empty conversation. She did not want me to engage with her at all, even when I tried to talk to her about her parents and her friends, she would not let me draw her in. She’s thrown up a wall to keep everyone as distant as she can.”

“I know, I figured that one out for myself.”

“Yes… but there are two exceptions. Ljúfvina and Rasil.”

Loki nodded, scowling at the mention of Rasil,

“Sigyn said they were her most loyal servants.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple Loki.” Frigga sighed and met his gaze levelly, “When I was there Mýrkjartan told me that he had learned that Rasil and Ljúfvina spend every night in Sigyn’s chambers.”

“In… in her chambers, why would-?” Loki cut himself off, eyes widening as understanding crept up on him. “Are you saying that they are her…?”

“That is the belief of the other people who serve in the palace.”

The bottom seemed to drop out of Loki’s stomach and he grabbed the edge of the table. Frigga’s hand closed on his wrist,

“Loki, listen to me, I’m not sure they’re right!”

Loki blinked at his mother stupidly,

“But you just said-”

“I’m telling you what everyone else thinks so you can handle the situation better when you’re with her. It may be that this is exactly what Sigyn wants, for her subjects to believe that she has new lovers, lovers that aren’t you. You said she’s attacked you, as king of Asgard, but what if she is also trying to ensure no one suspects ties between you are still there.”

“But why would she do that? She’s the queen now, there’s no need to hide our relationship –Ljúfvina said people know about it anyway.”

“That may be the point.”

Loki frowned, then sighed, “If she’s trying to distance herself from me, then pretending she’s taken new lovers would do that, but why am I the one she wants to distance from more than anyone else? Is it me or Asgard she’s nervous about? I suppose it’s both, but which is driving her? Vanaheim has always had a difficult relationship with Asgard, is she worried about losing the support of her people if she’s thought to be too close to me? But surely they wouldn’t care about that now, not after what Svartalfheim did –in fact, would the idea of a marriage between Asgard and Vanaheim’s rulers not appeal when we can offer support? I suppose that may not be the easiest argument to win considering Vanaheim didn’t know what exactly happened to Asgard, they may not understand that the Bifrost was gone.”

“I was unable to speak with many people outside the palace, so I don’t know how much they know. In the end though the decision of alliance with Asgard and Vanaheim would be with Sigyn and her council.”

“Not if Sigyn is afraid of upsetting the populace,” said Loki, thinking back on the last conversations he had had with Sigyn before everything had gone wrong. He remembered, through a kind of haze that always shadowed his memories during his time after his metamorphosis and before he was remade as himself, how she had been so distressed about her perceived failings to her duties.

“Vanaheim has had its whole sense of self shredded,” he said, sitting back in his seat. “Sigyn has lost her sense of self… the amount of times she changed her clothes and hair while I was there. She was trying to fit a hundred roles, of queen, of shrewd politician, saviour of her people, each item and hairstyle ill-fitting because they only reflect one part of her. She’s like a child trying on different costumes.”

Frigga nodded, “I would agree. Yet she is not a child, she has grown almost beyond recognition.”

“I did not mean I think of her as a child, but she has not… grown into her role. I did the same thing, but it was not half as extreme because it was a simpler transition. Malekith invaded after Sigyn had been abducted by people who hated her –Ljúfvina said the people who hurt her didn’t want her to rule them. She was already unsure about her place in Vanaheim, doubting her abilities as a ruler.” Loki remembered how Sigyn had despaired about her own abilities, and then the meeting they had had days ago. He thought about how she had sat on the table, watching him dispassionately as he opened himself to her, trying to appeal to their bond and her refusing to acknowledge it.

“Ljúfvina told me, ‘Sometimes we are cruellest about those that matter the most to us.’ At Ostara Sigyn had said that her Ey servants supported our marriage. So what if she was trying to tell me that because Sigyn still cares for me, she would try to hurt me?”

“That seems likely,” said Frigga, “I felt she kept me at a distance because she feared I’d get too close.”

“I just don’t understand why,” he burst out. “I mean, what is the root cause? Is it just she does not want to show favouritism to Asgard? Why not just tell me that –she must know I would play along?”

“It seems likely that it’s a many layered issue. The politics and the personal mixed together, you’ll just have to unpick them.”

Loki sighed,

“I’m tired of playing games with Sigyn, let alone against her.”

Frigga rubbed at her palm, her gaze on the floor. Finally she looked up at him,

“Then don’t.”

Loki frowned at her. Frigga reached out and took his hands.

“Don’t play the games at all. If you don’t engage with Sigyn’s games, she’ll stop playing them.”

“But she’ll think she’s won.”

“My darling, what does that matter?”

Loki blinked, then tilted his head, conceding the point. What did it matter? He nodded,

“Very well, now what more do you have on the ritual?”

Frigga pulled out her notes and they started to discuss them.

The idea was insane, and yet, there was a beauty to the theory that Loki could appreciate as a seiðr user. Sitting with his mother and pouring over everything was a strange sense of familiarity, reminding him of the days when he had begun his training on her knee. Except he was not a child anymore and he could match his mother for skill and knowledge, though they differed in method and specifics. It was the first time he felt like they were speaking as equals, and both of them were fascinated by the proposed plan.

“It would be beyond risky… but the more I read, the more I long to see it done,” said Frigga, sounding almost giddy. Loki nodded, grinning at her.

“Imagine the feeling of all that seiðr. It would be the most incredible sensation.”

“If it’s done right, it would be like experiencing the longest orgasm ever –oh Loki!” Frigga laughed as Loki spluttered, his face heating up. “How do you think Thor exists?”

“No! No more mother, I beg you!” Loki pleaded, covering his ears. Frigga’s eyes lit up with mischief and she grabbed Loki’s wrists, pulling his hands away from his head,

“Oh but Loki, I think you should hear this one-”

“For the sake of my sanity, no! No more mother, please!”

Frigga smirked and let him go. Loki kept his ears partially covered for a minute to be sure she would not try again. Then Frigga sat back and scrutinised him thoughtfully.

“Loki…”

“… yes?”

“When did you learn to change your sex?”

Loki’s heart stuttered and he widened his eyes innocently. Frigga raised her eyebrows, making it plain she would not accept that as an answer. He sighed and sat back, mirroring Frigga.

“It must have been centuries ago –I would have been about six hundred and fifty I think.”

“And why did you learn it?”

“Sigyn was learning, and what she learned I learned and vice versa.”

“Sigyn’s not a natural shape-shifter,” said Frigga thoughtfully. Loki shrugged,

“She was always able to keep up with me,” said Loki.

Frigga shook her head, looking fascinated, “I wish I had known, I would have loved to have watched you both grow into your studies. But why was Sigyn learning?”

“Well, we would go to Midgard and she was irritated by the restrictions put on her because she was female. Sometimes she was not allowed to speak to anyone, sometimes she was heavily restricted in where she could and could not go –so she decided that rather than try to conjure an illusion which could be disturbed, she would learn how to change her sex.”

“I must admit when I realised you could I… was very surprised that you would do such a thing?”

Loki narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

“Because you’ve always been so… conscious of your maleness, despite your flair for seiðr you made it clear that anyone who questioned your maleness could expect to be punished for it. It was always a sore subject for you I know, so the fact that you would shift between the sexes is… surprising.”

Loki tapped his finger on the arm of his chair before muttering,

“Sigyn made it a contest, she bet she could do it before me.”

“Ah… of course,” Frigga chuckled, “And did she?”

“No, I beat her, I usually did.”

“Seiðr comes more naturally to you. I’m impressed she kept up with you so well.”

Loki tilted his head thoughtfully. It was something he had not considered before, but Frigga had a point. Loki’s natural flair was something he took for granted, and he still had to learn and study the skills. Anyone else would have to work even harder to match him.

“In the end I had to help her with the transition a few times before she could do it,” he admitted, “She could not get the feeling of switching the way I could.”

“Did it help you explore Midgard?”

“It did, though Sigyn’s… I suppose you could call it ‘most natural’ male form is… rather noticeable. He’s large and broad.”

“Like Th-”

“No! Not like Thor, not at all!” Loki gave an exaggerate shudder. “Please mother, don’t give me any new nightmares.”

Frigga smiled,

“I’m sorry, tell me what Sigyn –does she still call herself Sigyn, or are your alternate forms not the same as you are now?”

“Yes and no. We retain our own minds, but like when I turn into another animal, certain urges and feelings change. It’s hard to explain, but we are in equal measure the same and different. And no, Sigyn does not call her male form Sigyn –she goes by Svaðilfari, and I go by Lorelei.”

“Lorelei?” Frigga laughed.

Loki shrugged,

“It seemed to suit me.”

Frigga pushed her hair back and smiled at Loki,

“Would you ever be Lorelei around me?”

Loki’s face began to burn.

“I don’t know. It’s… it’s very private, mother.”

“You’ve worn that form for all of Midgard to see.”

Loki squirmed in his seat, “Yes… but in some ways that was private for us, no one who mattered knew us in those forms. And… and I don’t know how well I would react if I became Lor –if I became a woman here, on Asgard. I’ve never done it here.”

Frigga’s eyes widened slightly,

“Then how did you study it?”

“… you’d be amazed how long I could disappear before people noticed I was gone, or at least, started to worry. Sigyn could not do it as easily, so I did a lot of travelling between our visits.” Loki smiled faintly, “When I proved stubborn about becoming a woman, she said she would not see me until I did it.”

“And did you?”

“No. I couldn’t do it without her drowning out the voices in my head that sounded like Thor and his friends mocking me for doing it. So I went… well, not grovelling, but I did make apologies.”

“Did she make you work for it?”

Loki arched his eyebrow at Frigga who shrugged, “I’m trying to get a sense of your relationship, the real relationship that you have. I understand that she supported you, but there must be things about her that irritated you.” She smiled that mischievous smile.

Loki pursed his lips, “She… she’s messy! Any time she was using my potion things, she never tidied up after herself, I could hardly find anything after she was done.”

“When was the last time either of you did potions, they haven’t been fashionable for years!” laughed Frigga.

“Oh I don’t know, we had so many fights about it we gave up trying to work together on them. We were better suited to ruinic and theoretical seiðr when we’re working together.”

Frigga’s eyebrows twitched, and she reached for her notes,

“You know, one of the biggest concerns I have with this plan of Sigyn’s is the lack of runes. They’re so vital to stabilising and binding power –and yet they’re very few and far between.”

“I was always better at them, she was better with the theories,” said Loki.

“Well… it would probably be worthwhile bringing this to her attention,” said Frigga, pushing the notes to Loki.

“You mean I should, and since she knows I’m skilled with them, she would be a poor queen if she did not accept it. I thought you said I shouldn’t push her.”

“I said don’t push her about your marriage, but this is important. She wants to do this spell, she needs to be absolutely sure it will work. If she’s that committed, she cannot reject your offer. Just… offer it in a way that is not going to cause insult.”

Loki nodded, tapping his finger on the notes,

“I know just the way.”

~*~

There was a mouse in her chambers. Sigyn swept at it with her foot. She did not want to hurt the creature –too many animals in Vanaheim were in danger that she could not stomach the idea –but she did not want it in her bed either. The mouse squeaked indignantly and scurried away behind a book shelf. Sigyn sighed and dragged her hands over her face. Her head was pounding and her body ached as she walked to her wardrobe. She kicked off her shoes and wriggled her toes in relief on the cool wood of her floor. The damn things were just slightly too small, but Sigyn would not ask them to be changed, and she did not want to waste seiðr on fixing them.

Putting away her day’s outfit, Sigyn pulled on her nightgown, smoothing down the cool, greying fabric, then pulled on one of the fraying threads. She shut the wardrobe and locked it   felt a familiar tugging on her sense of seiðr and froze. There was only one thing that caused that sort of sensation. With trembling fingers she pulled a letter out of the ether and let it fall into her palm.

A letter from Loki.

A part of her wanted to throw it in the fire, wanted to deny Loki the chance to get to her… but that would be admitting weakness. Licking her lips, she unfolded the letter and sat on the edge of her bed to read it. It was written in a scrawl that she recognised as Loki brimming with excitement and energy as he wrote;

_Sigyn,_

_I’ve been reading this proposal of yours over and over –it sounds fantastic! I’ve never read such a theory before, it’s absolutely beautiful._

_Obviously we both know the risks that such a ritual will hold, but I agree with you that the benefits outweigh the risks. One thing that strikes me is the fact that at the moment there is little in the way of runic elements, but for such a powerful spell, as much stability as possible will be needed. I’ve attached a few particular runes that I think will be most vital, if you agree with my assessments then please pass them on to Prince Berach and anyone else who can improve upon them. To my thinking runes will be vital to the success of this plan, but you were always better at the theories of seiðr than me-_

“What’s that?”

Sigyn’s stomach gave a swoop of panic as Rasil looked over her shoulder. How did she never hear him coming? The letter was snatched out of her hand and she jumped to her feet.

“Don’t!” she cried, reaching for it. Rasil pushed her hand away as he read through the letter, then snorted.

“So this is his new tactic.”

“Rasil, give it to me,” Sigyn ordered, but any force she might have put into the command quailed when Rasil rounded on her.

“So, how are you going to answer this?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I didn’t finish it.”

“He wants to work with you on the planning of the ritual. Isn’t that sweet? I wonder what he thinks will happen.” Rasil turned back to her with a smile as he spoke in a sweet, dreamy voice, “Maybe he imagines the two of you alone together, talking of magic for hours, full of wonder and excitement about your great scheme.”

“It’s not a scheme, it’s a legitimate-”

“He probably thinks that after some time together, maybe a few drinks, you’ll laugh together, and then there’ll be a touch.” He curled his fingers around her wrist, squeezing just hard enough to hurt. “A simple thing, but brimming with meaning.”

“Rasil, enough, I–” Sigyn yelped when he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“Then you’ll lock eyes, and stare into each other’s souls,” he jeered, leaning in and for a terrifying moment she though he would try to kiss her –like he had so many times before. “And the next thing we know, you’ll be bending over for him and spreading your legs like a bitch in heat!”

Sigyn shoved against his chest, but he hardly moved.

“Stop it!”

Rasil let go of her face,

“So you’re telling me you haven’t imagined the two of you being alone together, maybe this time surrendering to that pulse between your legs? I know you wanted to when he was here, the way you looked at him.”

“I didn’t –I shut down any of his attempts to reconnect! I made it clear I did not want him,” she cried, hating how cowed he made her feel, but if she did not convince him she meant it he would start touching her and she had never been able to fight him off.

_The fight never stops._

“Really? If you had truly made it clear, why did he still look at you with lust and false love?”

“I can’t control how Loki feels.”

“Of course you can,” said Rasil, his grip on her wrist becoming painful. “If you really wanted to you would have stomped all over him and left him bleeding. If you hate him as you claim-”

“I do! I swear I do!” cried Sigyn, trying to pull away from Rasil.

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re still so besotted with him you’d go right back to him if I was not here to keep you on the right path.”

“I wouldn’t. My only objective is Vanaheim, nothing else –let me go!” Sigyn twisted her wrist in Rasil’s grip and pushed at his chest, trying to pull away. Rasil pulled on her arm and forced her to turn, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest. Panic flared up in Sigyn’s heart as she froze, feeling Rasil press against her, his nose in her hair, his hard cock against her backside.

“Did he hold you like this? His arms around you, whispering in your ear about how much he loved you?” asked Rasil softly, his lips brushing her ear.

“Stop, please,” Sigyn whimpered.

“He must have laughed at how easily you surrendered to his charms, the lonely, sad little princess, thinking herself all alone while surrounded by loving servants who gave their lives for you-”

“Stop it!” Sigyn begged, her eyes stinging, her chest aching as she remembered the screams of her Svana, of her Ey, as they were murdered in front of her while she begged for mercy. “I’m sorry, I told you, I won’t –he doesn’t have any power over me, not anymore.”

“Hmph! I don’t believe you,” said Rasil, one hand curling around her neck, squeezing hard.

“P-please,” Sigyn sobbed, struggling to catch her breath.

“Enough!”

Rasil let Sigyn go and they both turned to see Ljúfvina, white lipped with rage, push herself between them. “Get out of here Rasil!”

Rasil snorted, looking past her to Sigyn, “Pathetic, hiding behind your only friend.”

“I said get out!” Ljúfvina shouted. Rasil looked from one to the other, and Sigyn shuddered at his dark eyes. She hated the way he could pin her down with his disapproving glare and fill her with trepidation.

“As you wish,” he said, and he was gone. Sigyn’s body was overcome with trembling and sank down onto the edge of her bed. Ljúfvina turned around and crouched down in front of her, hands on her knees.

“Sigyn,”

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she gasped, reaching for Ljúfvina’s hand and holding it tight. Ljúfvina’s brow was deeply creased as she looked into Sigyn’s face.

“You can’t let this go on, you have to get rid of him,” said Ljúfvina. Sigyn shook her head.

“I can’t. I still need him.”

“Why? You really think he’s going to bring anyone who does not side with the monarchy to you? They’re all on your side,” said Ljúfvina, seizing Sigyn’s elbows and giving her a little shake. “Get rid of him Sigyn, before he-”

“Before he what?” demanded Sigyn, “What can he do that he has not already to hurt me?”

“Then why let him so close?”

Sigyn pushed Ljúfvina away, even though she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her arms.

“Because I have to!”

“No you don’t! He’s trying to control you.”

“He’s making sure I don’t fail this realm again.”

Ljúfvina reached out and clasped Sigyn’s head in her hands.

“Sigyn, he’s a monster, he’s the whole reason-”

“Stop Ljúfvina. I know you don’t want him here, but I won’t get rid of him. Not yet.”

“Then when?”

Sigyn swallowed, her stomach was churning and she wanted to vomit, but that would waste the food her people were trying so desperately to grow.

“When I finally make things right.”

Ljúfvina looked frustrated as Sigyn stood up and picked up Loki’s letter, trying to keep her heart from speeding up as she saw his handwriting again. The longing she felt was so hard to kill, but she had to do it. She could not be weak and give in to Loki’s attempts to reconcile, she saw the consequences of her own selfishness every day, in the face of every person who was still alive. So no matter what Loki said, no matter what he offered her, not even if he dangled her sons in front of her would Sigyn give in.

She was the Queen of Vanaheim, and that was all she would ever be. She had sworn to give herself up to her duty and she would not break that oath. She would protect her people and, when the time came, she would marry whoever her council deemed most appropriate and let him impregnate her with an heir. That was the path she had committed to, she would not let her own lusts and desires bring any more pain on anyone else. As much as it hurt to push Loki away, she knew that even if the council picked him as the ideal prince consort she would have to keep him at a distance. She would never let herself love him again.

~*~

_King Loki,_

_Your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated and I would be glad to have your assistance, as I agree that runes would indeed be vital for this ritual._

_Please have your ambassador communicate to mine when we may meet to discuss it. Do not send me a message in this manner again._

_Queen Sigyn._

It was not exactly a heartfelt reply, but at the very least Sigyn was agreeing to see him. Loki considered that a victory. He would make this work. 


	19. The Living Presence Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … well I did say I would be busy trying to set myself up with self-publishing. It didn’t help that the chapter after this one is… exhaustingly difficult. Still, I hope you like this one.   
> Enjoy!

_One month later…_

Loki was used to walking through the Bird’s Nest, as people called Sigyn’s palace, after a series of visits that he felt had been relatively productive. Sigyn was still keeping him at a distance, and he was respecting that by only engaging her as a fellow seiðr user. It was frustrating, but in a way it was rather nice to be simply sharing a love of knowledge, not dealing with anything politically or emotionally complicated. Loki felt a freedom he had not felt since he had ascended to the throne.

He walked into the room that had been set aside for the express purpose of planning for the ritual, which was being called ‘The Reset’. Sigyn was already there, pouring over the notes from the last time Loki had been here. She was always there when he arrived, even when he tried to be early.

“Good morning,” he greeted, unbuttoning his coat and handing it to Ljúfvina, who hung it up on the wall.

“Good morning,” she replied, pacing to the wall where hundreds of notes and pictures had been stuck in a seemingly senseless mess. Only someone who knew seiðr could see the patterns. “I’ve been thinking, Svartalfheim has always been the realm with the weakest connection to Yggdrasil, is there a way we can boost it?”

“I was wondering the same. If we can’t ensure the ritual is tied in properly to Svartalfheim, it could snap, or rebound –either way Svartalfheim would be devastated,” said Loki, walking to stand beside her.

“We don’t want that,” she muttered, tapping her chin with the notes in her hand. Loki nodded, keeping his eyes on the wall. It was a bit of a farce, they did everything they could to avoid each other’s gaze even as they spent hours together. Sigyn sighed and pushed her hair behind her ear. Loki glanced at her and as he did, her sleeve pulled up from her wrist, exposing what looked like a bruise. Loki frowned, but did not say anything. It was not the first bruise he had noticed on Sigyn, and she dismissed his questions by claiming they were training injuries. Loki was not certain he believed her, but he had seen Sigyn training with her soldiers so it was a logical cause.

They spoke at length about the required boosters they would need for Svartalfheim, and then tea was brought in. Alfheim’s finest brew, a gift from Aetril. As Loki drank, he turned to Sigyn and smiled,

“You know, I wasn’t sure this would actually work. I mean, it’s so… extreme, I was honestly mostly interested in the theoretical principles, but now I think we actually could manage to make this happen.”

Sigyn sipped her tea, eyes fixed on the wall. Looking at her, Loki thought she looked exhausted under all that makeup and hair. When was the last time she had gotten a good night’s sleep?

“It will work,” she said quietly. “It has to work.”

Loki swallowed and held his cup in two hands, bracing himself for a question he had been putting off for weeks.

“I was wondering… I know you’re hoping the Reset will allow Vanaheim to recover more quickly from the pollution and burning that Malekith did, but would your royal consummation ritual not help?”

Sigyn’s head snapped around and she narrowed her eyes at him, but Loki cut her off quickly, “I don’t mean anything… about us or anything like that, but surely anyone could perform that spell and help increase the fertility of the land?”

Sigyn continued to stare at him suspiciously for a moment, then she looked away and said, “Only a royal can do that ritual… only I can do it. It’s tied to my seiðr and blood, it was tied to my seiðr when I was born.”

“How come you never told me about that? That Vanaheim’s magic was bound up in yours?”

“Because it wasn’t any of your business,” said Sigyn curtly. She always became very prickly when Loki mentioned anything to do with their shared past. However, in this case, Loki could not contain his curiosity.

“So, why haven’t you done the ritual? Do you not think it would work?”

“The Reset needs to be done first, and then the Consummation ritual will… will be looked into.”

They were both quiet for a moment, and it hit Loki that he might not, probably would not, be the one to do the Consummation ritual with Sigyn. The realisation drove the air out of his lungs as he easily imagined Sigyn lying on the temple alter, a faceless man atop her, her face flushed, mouth open in a drawn out moan as the man drove her to orgasm as many times as he could.

In all their lives as a couple he had dreaded the idea of the official consummation of their marriage because it would be done in a temple on a hard alter, and recorded for posterity, with evidence of Sigyn’s orgasms appearing atop the temple for all to see. Worse, he had always been worried that his nerves would get the better of him and he would only get Sigyn to orgasm once or twice (or not at all), and everyone would laugh at him, thinking him a poor lover for his wife. Yet he had never doubted that he would be the one doing it with her.

Now he was faced with the possibility that he would not be and it sent a bolt of primal jealousy and rage through him. He clung to his cup to ground himself, not wanting Sigyn to notice his emotional reaction.

“The council will have to pick my husband before I can do the Consummation ritual, since the whole point is for the royal family to ensure the next generation for Vanaheim,” said Sigyn softly, digging her toe into the floor. Loki swallowed hard and looked at the floor.

“I suppose whoever is picked, they will be whomever the council feels will make the best prince consort.”

“Yes, they will.” Sigyn sighed and one of her hands dropped away from the cup, falling by her side. Loki wanted to take that hand the way a starved man wants food. He held onto his cup. Sigyn inhaled slowly, then looked at him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time in weeks. “Loki…”

Loki straightened up, “Yes?”

Sigyn bit her lower lip and Loki was sure she was about to tell him something private and important. His hand twitched to reach for her face as she spoke,

“Over the years I’ve lent you a lot of books. I’d like them back.”

Loki stepped back, feeling like she had punched him in the stomach.

“You want… would you like all your letters back too? Are you so eager to erase everything that was between us? Have you gotten that cold?” he demanded before he could think. Sigyn’s anxious expression vanished behind a cold indifference.

“Every book I have ever owned was lost to me when Malekith blew up the palace I grew up in. In fact, everything I ever owned at all was destroyed in the invasion. I’m asking for the books so that I might have something that was mine returned to me. I cannot get the clothes, the mementos, the doll I clung to when I had nightmares, or anything else back.”

Loki ducked his chin to his chest, feeling ashamed of himself. Sigyn pressed closer, her voice lowered to a poisonous hiss,

“My entire life was erased from existence, and you would begrudge me a few books to soothe your wounded pride?”

“No, I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I’ll get those books to you. Do… do you want anything else that I might have?”

Sigyn stared up at him coldly and Loki knew he had just wrecked much of the progress he had made with her in the past month.

“No. Just the books.”

Loki nodded and decided to leave before he said anything else. He picked up his coat and pulled it on.

“I’ll keep searching for additional boosters for Svartalfheim.”

“Yes, do that,” said Sigyn distantly, her gaze fixed on the wall. Loki went to the door, then paused as another question that had been burning him came to the fore of his mind. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he turned back.

“Sigyn?”

Sigyn hummed in acknowledgement, she seemed very far away, her arms wrapped around herself.

“How did you get rid of so many bodies?”

“What?” Sigyn frowned at him in confusion.

“Vanaheim lost more than half the population, what did you do to the bodies? I just… it’s been driving me mad, trying to imagine what you must have had to do to dispose of them.”

“Then you have a taste of what I felt trying to find a solution,” said Sigyn with a brittle smile. “They kept piling up… I wanted to get a list of names, after all, we still had a surviving backup of our registry, and I wanted to know the names. But five billion names is an impossible list to memorise. In the end it was easier to find out who was still alive.”

Loki nodded, his throat tightening as he tried to imagine what that must have been like. He remembered the bodies left over from the Rebellion of Pigs, Thundi’s family among them. It had been appalling to stare down at a hall full of bodies. How had Sigyn held herself together when faced with five billion?

“So what did you do?”

“We couldn’t bury them, there wasn’t enough time or space, and mass graves are likely to pollute the land and water, which I couldn’t risk. We couldn’t burn them, we didn’t have enough fuel or magic. But I wanted to honour them, somehow.”

Loki did not ask again. Sigyn’s gaze was far away again, and he wondered if she had ever really had anyone to talk to about this. Loki had had her in years past, and without her he had had Frigga and Sverrir. He knew Ljúfvina and Rasil were considered close to Sigyn, but they had shared the trauma, so Sigyn probably did not talk to them about this sort of thing. Finally Sigyn drew in a deep breath and she said,

“There had to be a consequence for Malekith’s people, but I didn’t want to inflict death upon them. So I took away their fleet.”

“Their spaceships?”

Sigyn nodded, “I needed every ship they had. I made the Svartalfheim military load the bodies onto the ships, made them look at what they had done. It took weeks to get through them all… the smell was unbearable.” Her voice cracked and her hand flew to her throat, tears in her eyes as she drew in a ragged breath. “After that, the ships were set to autopilot, and I sent them all to the sun. I couldn’t burn their bodies here, even if the fuel had been available the environmental consequences would have been catastrophic.”

“So you did the best alternative,” said Loki gently. Sigyn gave a jerky nod, and she looked so haunted that Loki could not stop himself. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, wishing he could ease her pain. Sigyn started violently at his touch and she pushed at his chest.

“Don’t!”

Loki let go at once, backing away with his hands raised in peace. Sigyn looked at him in complete terror and he felt stupid for startling her. Of course remembering such events would make her jumpy.

“Sorry. I just wanted to try to comfort you.”

Sigyn pale, drawn face flushed with colour and she grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself.

“Leave,” she rasped. Loki obeyed, afraid of upsetting her further. He hurried as fast as he could back to the Vanir Bifrost and used Mjölnir to get him back to the palace in minutes. He had travelled lightyears in the span of fifteen minutes, but he felt as drawn as if he had been running for days. He sat down heavily, then jumped up when he heard a very loud squeak coming from his coat pocket that he had nearly sat on. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a mouse.

“Mýrkjartan!”

The mouse straightened its whiskers, then jumped from Loki’s hand, changing into Mýrkjartan before he landed on the ground. He straightened up and arched his back, causing several loud pops to fill the room, then bowed to Loki.

“My king, I hope I did not alarm you.”

“No, it’s fine. I was starting to think I’d never see you again,” said Loki.

“I wanted to be thorough in my works, because what I’ve uncovered is very troubling.” Mýrkjartan looked as exhausted as Sigyn, and almost as troubled. Loki directed him to sit and summoned a servant to bring food and wine. Mýrkjartan smoothed his hair back and pulled out his equipment from his pocket, including a tablet that he held out to Loki.

“Should you tell me what’s on this first?” asked Loki warily.

“I have few words, at least for the start of the recordings.”

Loki tapped his fingernail on the screen, torn between eagerness to know and discomfort at the spying. If it had been any other monarch he may not have been as troubled, but Sigyn made everything different, “Will this compromise my honour as a king?”

“No, there is very little politics in what I have found. It is entirely personal and if you do not find your honour as a husband challenged, then you are not the man I thought you,” said Mýrkjartan baldly. Loki’s eyebrows shot up, but it shouldn’t have surprised him that Mýrkjartan had figured it all out. He was entirely too good at his job. “I will warn you my king, it is not pleasant to see –I had some difficulty staying hidden and resigned only to watching.”

Loki nodded. The food and wine arrived and Loki took a large gulp for courage. He turned on the screen and watched the recording play.

It was an odd angle, because Mýrkjartan was so low down and small, but it was clear enough as Sigyn walked into view and shooed him away. There was a jostling and then they were higher up, watching from above as Sigyn pulled a letter, Loki’s letter he realised, from the ether and opened it. Then Rasil snatched it out of her hands –where had he come from? He had appeared out of nowhere.

That question was driven out of Loki’s mind as he watched Rasil mock Sigyn and assault her. Only Ljúfvina’s timely arrival seemed to save her, and he was shaking with rage.

“I will kill him.”

“I would wait until you’ve seen everything,” said Mýrkjartan quietly. Loki threw him a frown before he looked down at the next recording. It was hard to be sure but it seemed to be a different day, and he could see a bath full of steaming water. Sigyn entered the room, holding a robe tight around her body. She looked around the room as if checking she was alone and then she reached up, buried her fingers in her hair and pulled. Loki’s mouth fell open as the hair came away from her scalp and revealed bare skin. Sigyn leaned her head back, dropping her arm holding the wig as if the wig weighed as much as a boulder and passing her other hand over her scalp, sighing in relief. Loki watched her set the wig down on a stand, stroking it with an odd tenderness before turning away.

“I don’t…” he started, but then Sigyn dropped her robe and he lost the ability to speak. He watched her step into the water and his mind struggled to process what he was seeing. The recording cut off and he looked up at Mýrkjartan.

“Is this real? Has she really been so…”

Mýrkjartan nodded, “It was not a once off appearance. That is how she is now.”

“Why? What happened?”

“That I cannot say, I believe seiðr is involved –but I cannot speculate on what could cause such deformities.”

Loki looked down at the screen, and watched more footage of Sigyn with Ljúfvina and Rasil, and he saw what he had already figured out over the last few weeks. Sigyn was heavily dependent on both of them, Ljúfvina was her emotional support, and Rasil had obviously found a way to make Sigyn believe that she needed him, he was the hard-liner, the one who pushed for aggressive solutions. Loki’s hands clenched into fists as he made himself watch as the bastard groped and taunted Sigyn.

 _“You’re no better than an Aesir whore,”_ Rasil told Sigyn, pulling at her clothes as she fought him off desperately.

 _“I’m not! I’m not!”_ she wailed.

_“You were thinking about him again! I know you were, you’re so pathetic, wishing Loki would come and fill you up. Was that what it was like? Did you feel like half a person unless he was grunting on top of you? Was that what made it so easy for you to choose him over Vanaheim?”_

_“Stop it! I didn’t –I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”_ Sigyn collapsed on the ground, curling into a ball and crying as Rasil spat on her –only for Ljúfvina to come and throw him out. Loki swore to himself that he would cut the man’s cock off and feed it to him before he killed him.

Next he watch a recording of Sigyn with her council. He turned up the volume slightly to hear what was being said,

 _“-would be so much better than this radical idea,”_ said a woman, standing before Sigyn, who was seated on her great throne and looking stunningly beautiful. You would never have thought that under her elaborate clothes she was…

 _“I’ve already told you, we need the Reset before we can even consider attempting the Consummation Ritual,”_ said Sigyn sounding annoyed.

_“But my queen-”_

_“I understand that you are eager to see Vanaheim restored,”_ said Sigyn sounding more than a little impatient. _“Do you think I am not?”_

_“No my queen, we know you are-”_

_“Moreover, do you really think that impressing upon me the burden of marriage and producing an heir, when I am already doing everything in my power to bring Vanaheim back from its ashes is just, or even rational?”_

The woman backed down, _“No, my queen, you are right, Vanaheim’s wellbeing must come first.”_

It was obvious that she and others wanted to point out the obvious; that the Consummation ritual would aid in Vanaheim’s recovery, but they did not dare press further when Sigyn’s voice made it clear she was not going to be moved. Knowing what Loki knew now, he did not blame her.  

“Was there more?” he asked, swallowing down the urge to vomit.

“Yes, there is one final thing.” Mýrkjartan took the tablet back and tapped up something else, before handing it to Loki. Loki read the readings, and his frown deepened as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

“No –that can’t be. I would have noticed, surely…”

“I checked twenty times, my readings were always the same,” said Mýrkjartan.

“Only on them?”

“Only on them. It did make me wonder something else.”

Loki sighed, his head starting to ache as he propped it in his hand,

“What?”

Mýrkjartan sighed loudly,

“It occurred to me that the stories did not add up. According to every record, every person I questioned, the Chief Palace was blown up by Malekith in the first hour of the invasion.”

“That’s right,” said Loki, looking up at him.

“The king and queen were already dead though, their bodies within the palace.”

“And?”

Mýrkjartan raised his eyebrows, “How is it that their bodies now lie in state for all to see, barely a mark upon them after over two years at least before they were recovered?”

Loki felt stupid for never wondering the same, he had little interest in Sigyn’s parents, but he still should have found that suspicious. There was no way the bodies could have been retrieved, Sigyn had told him there were too many bodies to sort through. So how had they been found?

“Are the bodies real?”

“My inspection indicated that there are two bodies lying where the king and queen appear to be.”

“So who-?” Loki fell quiet as things started to fall into place, and he closed his eyes in despair. “Oh Sigyn…”

They were quiet for a while, Mýrkjartan eating his food while Loki digested the information. Finally he said, “You’ve done very well Mýrkjartan, thank you.”

Mýrkjartan nodded, his cheeks flushing with pleasure at Loki’s praise,

“My king, may I ask what you plan to do with this knowledge?”

Loki tightened his grip on the tablet,

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “I mean, this cannot go on, the longer it continues the worse she’ll get. But... no matter how it’s done it will devastate her.”

Mýrkjartan nodded, “But maybe it will give you an opportunity to reconcile with her.”

Loki gave him a sharp look, “Right now that is not my priority.”

Mýrkjartan’s throat bobbed, “Yes my king.”

“Go and get some sleep Mýrkjartan,” said Loki with a wave of his hand. As Mýrkjartan left, Loki called for his mother. He needed her advice.

~*~

“You have to tell her Loki!” exclaimed Frigga, looking appalled as Loki explained the situation.

“I know that, but how? If she doesn’t believe me the first time I might not get another chance to convince her,” said Loki.

“You need to go and tell her now!” said Frigga as if she had not heard him.

“I can’t just walk up to her and tell her without proof. Proof is the only way it will break through to her,” said Loki.

Frigga was quiet, but she looked rather frantic. It was rather comforting to see her as distressed about Sigyn as she would be about her sons or grandsons.

“Could you just stab him? Would that do it?”

“It could have a rebound effect and if it did-”

“No, you’re right, of course,” cut in Frigga, wringing her hands. “So… what can you do? There must be a spell to show her.”

“They all need to be together, and usually one of them is somewhere else.” Loki still found that fact absolutely mindboggling. He had never been able to do that.

Then Frigga clapped her hands together, “What about a living presence spell? That one I taught you when you were a boy so you could be sure there were no monsters in your room?”

Loki’s eyes widened and he reached out and kissed his mother’s cheek,

“You’re a genius!”

Frigga gave him a weak smile, “Maybe I should go with you, for support.”

Loki considered the offer, then shook his head,

“No, she’ll be distressed enough without more people seeing it. If I need you, I’ll send you a message.”

Frigga nodded, looking up into his face and cupping his cheek,

“I know I don’t need to say it but please be gentle with her.”

Loki nodded, “I will.”

~*~

Using the mouse cloak he had made for Mýrkjartan, which was less draining than changing himself, Loki made his way through the Bird’s Nest palace, looking for Ljúfvina. It took him three hours to actually find her, and when he did he had to wait for another forty minutes for her to be alone. So he was a little careless when he sprang out of his mouse form and covered her mouth to keep her from screaming. Ljúfvina’s hand slammed into his throat and he gagged, dropping to his knees as he struggled for air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ljúfvina spat, looking terrified and furious.

“I –I know the truth about you!” said Loki. Ljúfvina’s face paled and she took a step back.

“What?”

“I know what you are, I know what you’re doing,” said Loki, getting to his feet. Ljúfvina’s eyes narrowed,

“And what exactly do you mean to do about it?”

“I want to make it right. I want to help you,” he gasped, rubbing at his throat in awe. Ljúfvina stiffened, still regarding him warily, yet he could not mistake the look in her eyes. He reached out and cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers. Ljúfvina arched into him, her arms going around his shoulders. Loki pulled her close, his hands on her hips. When they broke apart, Ljúfvina had tears in her eyes,

“Loki… I-”

“No, wait until I’ve fixed this, then tell me,” he murmured, although he was dying to hear the words. Ljúfvina nodded, giving him a weak smile. “I need to get Sigyn and Rasil somewhere we won’t be disturbed.”

Ljúfvina hummed thoughtfully, wiping away the tears.

“The shrine for Skadi and Njordr, it’s shut at night –we’ll be alone.”

“Good.” Loki pulled the cloak out again, “I’ll hide in your pocket.”

~*~

Being a mouse in a pocket was a miserable experience, it was hot, airless and dark. Loki did his best to keep himself calm by cleaning his whiskers and listening to the chatter around him. He could hear Rasil’s sneering voice and had to fight the urge to squeak hysterically at the sound. When this was over he would try to understand his presence, but it would be very difficult to keep his mind open.

Sigyn’s voice sounded weary, but Ljúfvina was able to convince both of them to go with her to the shrine. It seemed to take forever for them to get there, and Loki had to wait until Ljúfvina stuck her hand in her pocket and scooped him out to actually do anything. He jumped to the floor and cast a sealing spell on the shrine before pulling the cloak off.

The shrine was a dark place, lit only by moonlight, cold and echoing as Sigyn and Rasil whirled around in surprise.

“Loki!” cried Sigyn as Rasil snarled,

“What is going on?”

Ljúfvina said nothing, only ducked behind Sigyn and took her hand. Behind Sigyn Loki could see two bodies laid out on alters, and he shivered slightly. Sigyn was white faced and visibly frightened as she regarded him.

“What is this? What are you doing here Loki?”

Loki looked at her and at the way Rasil and Ljúfvina flanked her. He swallowed against a dry mouth and sighed,

“I’m sorry Sigyn.”

He raised his hand and cast the spell before the others could do anything more than flinch.

The Living Presence Spell was an old one, taught by Frigga to Loki to help soothe his nightmares. It worked by causing a light to surround the heads of every living thing in a room. Loki had wondered if this spell had been what gave humans the idea for halos. As he cast the spell, light filled the room and Sigyn flinched again, covering her eyes as the light surrounded Loki’s head and he winced as a matching light blazed into his eyes. He blinked hard as Sigyn lowered her arm, golden light shimmering around her head.  

“What is this Loki? How can you come to my parents’ shrine to –to what? Play with old spells.”

“I’m sorry Sigyn,” said Loki again, looking from her right, to her left. “I had to show you the truth –before it was too late.”

“What truth?” she snapped. Loki pointed at Rasil,

“Look.”

Sigyn glanced at Rasil, then stared. Rasil stood shrouded in the dark, looking outraged and confused. Sigyn reached up to touch her own head, as if to feel the light around it.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured. Rasil stepped forward,

“What’s to understand? He’s clearly trying to trick you.”

“No, I’m not. Sigyn you know this spell, you know how it works.”

“The Living Presence Spell,” she murmured, staring at Rasil uncomprehendingly. “But I don’t understand, why isn’t he…?”

Loki swallowed and stepped closer, “Because he isn’t real.”

Sigyn whirled around, teeth bared in fury,

“Yes he is! He is real, if you knew anything about him-”

“I know what he does to you,” said Loki softly. Sigyn’s mouth shut with a click of teeth. Rasil laughed,

“He’s been spying on you, see how much he respects you, oh glorious queen.”

“Shut up,” snapped Loki, not taking his eyes off Sigyn. “I don’t know where he came from, I don’t know why you picked him, but this man before you is an illusion. He’s just a projection, the same as what you and I have done for centuries.”

Sigyn shook her head, “No. He’s not an illusion, he’s solid.”

“I know he is… and that’s the real danger here. He’s a solid illusion, one you’re projecting, and you don’t even realise you’re doing it.” Loki took a single, tiny step forward, holding his hand out to her in supplication as she laughed,

“Do you really have that little respect for my magical abilities? I knew you never appreciated how hard I had to work to keep up with you, but I never thought you would call me uncontrolled.”

“You’re right, I did take it for granted that you were always able to keep up with me. I didn’t appreciate that you must have worked so hard to ensure we were always on an even footing-”

“Don’t patronise me! We were never really on an equal footing,” she spat. “Not all of us are deliberately bred to be seiðr masters.”

“No, you weren’t and you still managed to keep up with me,” said Loki, edging a little closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it before, but that does not change the truth. Rasil is just an illusion, he’s not real.”

“You’re insane,” said Sigyn, turning her face away.

“No, I’m right. And I can prove it.” Loki pushed past them and moved to the two bodies.

“What are you doing? Get away from them!” shrieked Sigyn. Loki reached out and pushed a wave of raw seiðr out from his body, hoping it would be enough to destabilise the seiðr shell around the bodies. To his relief, the bodies seemed to waver, and then soft blue light dissipated the shell. Sigyn froze and stared in disbelief.

“No…”

“Lies!” roared Rasil. Loki looked from one to the other and sighed again.

“I’m sorry Sigyn.”

Sigyn let out a choked cry and sank to her knees, grabbing at her head as trails of seiðr started to wind their way around her like vines, as if they intended to engulf her. She struggled desperately, but it was no good. Loki pressed himself against the wall to try and keep himself from interfering as Sigyn began to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m warning you guys now, the next chapter will be absolutely loaded with triggers and upsetting stuff –because we’re going back to the end of The Long Game from Sigyn’s POV.


	20. Sigyn Says No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N: TRIGGER WARNINGS ALL AROUND** –I am not joking here; torture, murder, beheading, sexual abuse, body-shaming, slut-shaming, victim self-blaming, genocide, war, mental health deterioration –all of it and more. Do not say I did not warn you.

Sigyn expects them. She plans a speech, an appeal she’s sure will convince them to give her a chance. Sigyn doesn’t want to be her parents, crushing rebellion underfoot. Ljúfvina expects her brother will come soon.    

They don’t expect the bomb.

Her open-topped carriage flies into the air. Sigyn crunches back to the ground, ears ringing.

Hands grab her, pin her to the ground, press on what feels like a broken arm. Pain cuts through her, a collar is wrapped around her neck –her seiðr dies inside her and she screams.  

They drag her over a pair of shoulders. A fist collides with her temple, the pain ripples against the ringing in her head. Dazed, she sees the Svana being grabbed, the Ey trying to fight, they are reaching for her.

“RUN!”  

Only three get away.

**~*~**

Yggdrasil, a tall, lean man, leads them. He sneers and smirks like Sif the Bitch. What an unfortunate similarity.

They hide away underground, out of sight of Vanaheim’s satellites. It stinks and sticks, dark and humid –it’s hard to breathe.  

Sigyn’s separated from her maids, thrown into a white room, her collar chained to the floor.

“Surrender your throne, and we will let you all go,” says Yggdrasil.  

Sigyn says, “No. Where are my Maids?”

Yggdrasil’s underlings come at her with razors and knives. Sigyn kicks and struggles as they rip her clothes, the ones Svana Þrír selected for her, and strip her naked. She burns with humiliation and anger as they pinch her nipples, slap her breasts and laugh. She refuses to cry when one woman grabs her long, white hair and hacks it away, biting into her lip as the woman drags a razor over her scalp and scrap it clean.  It’s just hair.

She snarls and struggles when they pull her legs open and shave the hair between them –they cut her and she howls with pain.

“Flesh wound,” sneers the woman with the razor. “Hold still little girl.”

They laugh when they finish, throwing all the hair they’ve taken from her on the fire.

Yggdrasil comes back,

“Surrender your throne,” he says.

Sigyn says, “No. Where are my Maids?”

They keep her in a bright, white room, with flickering lights that buzz and hum, the heat turned up high to make her thirsty, to keep her awake. The chain connecting her neck to the floor is so short she can’t stand up.

After the third day she knows they want her to lie in her own filth. Even crusts and dribbles of water eventually find their way out. The smell is awful and she wants to cry, but she’s too dehydrated. She hugs herself and pretends it’s Loki holding her. Where is he?

On the seventh day, she’s brought before Yggdrasil, a king in his shit-house. He stands above her, clean and confident, lip curling.

“Surrender your throne,” he says.

Sigyn says, “No. Where are my Maids?”

They whip her, cutting to bone on her back. Then, just to be clever, they pour salt water.

Sigyn’s screams rip her throat, and she spits blood at Yggdrasil’s feet. At his finger click, they cover her head with a black bag that smells like bile and dirt, then hang her by the wrists, toes scrapping helplessly on the ground. They laugh at her struggles, call her weak, call her ugly, call her stupid.  

Shoulders burn, blood drips down her back, over her buttocks and down her legs. It’s hard to breathe and Sigyn is not strong enough to fight against this. She’s not Loki.  

Yggdrasil rips the bag off,  

“Surrender your throne,” he snarls.

Sigyn says, “No. Where are my Maids?”

Growling, Yggdrasil punches her. Blood fills her mouth as her nose breaks against his fist. She swings by her arms, the bones straining to stay inside the sockets.

“You want your maids? Surrender your throne, and you can see them!”

Sigyn says, “No. Where are my Maids?”

They are the only words she will say. She never begs for mercy, never pleads to be let alone. These people will never show her compassion. They hate her. They blame her for everything that goes wrong, they blame her for continuing a monarchy they loathe.

What they actually want is harder to figure out –they don’t seem to know themselves. Sigyn listens to many arguments between them when they think she’s unconscious. Yggdrasil has quite a time keeping them under control.

Sigyn might have felt sorry for him if he weren’t such a despicable shit.  

**~*~**

They bring out the Svana and Ey. Sigyn nearly breaks. They’re flithy, hands bloodied, tear tracked cheeks, hair gone and collars on their necks. They cry out to her, fear and desperation in their eyes. Yggdrasil grabs the back of her collar and forces her to kneel up, showing off her broken, hairless body to the women who had devoted their lives to caring for it.

Svana Ein sobs, reaching for Sigyn.

“My baby,” she wails, as a mother would. Sigyn’s heart aches. She wants to crawl into Ein’s arms and never move again.  

“Surrender your throne,” says Yggdrasil.

Sigyn says, “No. Release my Maids.”

Yggdrasil jerks the collar, choking her. A rebel grabs Svana Ein, dragging her forward and holding a dagger to her throat. Sigyn throws herself forward, but Yggdrasil wrenches her back.

“Do it!”

Svana Ein screams, animalistic bellows as she scrambles to avoid the dagger, terror of death making her eyes bulge and roll in her head. Sigyn howls as the dagger cuts into Svana Ein’s throat.

It’s not a quick slice across the throat, it’s a slow, protracted beheading. Sigyn can’t look away as the blood flows, the bone and sinew crunches, Svana Ein gurgling her final pained breath, her body twitching and spasming in death throes.

The body collapses in a heap. They force her to kiss the slack, bloody lips. The head drops into her lap, warm and soft, the tongue slipping out and brushing her thigh. Sigyn retches. Yggdrasil crouches next to her, a hand on her shoulder, hot breath on her ear. 

“Surrender your throne, or they die too.”

Sigyn sobs, cradling Ein’s head and looking at the others. No matter how she might have felt of their roles, she never wanted this. They tremble and weep, clinging to each other, terrified. She can’t let them suffer for her.  Sigyn opens her mouth to surrender. Her eyes catch Svana Tveir’s and the woman gives a determined shake of her head, even as she trembles. Ey Fyrstr lurches forward.

“Don’t do it Sigyn! You can’t let them send Vanaheim back to civil war, it’s what they want!” She’s backhanded into silence. Sigyn’s sobs quieten as she looks from Svana Tveir, to Svana Þrír, Ey Fjórdi, Ey Sétti and finally Ey Fyrstr. They all tremble with fear, but as they look at her, the fear hardens to something more like resigned determination.

Sigyn shakes her head. She can’t let them die for her.

“We gave our lives in service to a Vanaheim we believe in. You’re that Vanaheim’s future, don’t throw our sacrifice away now,” whimpers Svana Þrír. She’s punched into silence.

“Surrender your throne, or they die!” shouts Yggdrasil. He sounds frustrated, as if it never occurred to him that the other side might be just as stubborn and determined as his. Sigyn looks up at him, hate such as she has never felt before boiling inside her, then looks at the other women. She imagines Vanaheim if she surrenders. The factions that her parents had held together would have no reason to cooperate, these rebels would try to take over, they would probably try to attack Asgard. It would be anarchy and devastation, so many deaths… no.

Sigyn inhales and looks up at Yggdrasil.

“If you want to stop me from being queen, you’ll have to kill me.”

Yggdrasil growls down at her, “You know we can’t –you’ve too much of Vanaheim’s magic tied into yours. If you die without giving up the throne, it will be lost. You have to relinquish your claim yourself.”

“Then let my maids and I go,” she says, heart hammering. Yggdrasil sneers down at her.

“Take their heads.”

Sigyn screams, fights and begs as each one of her maids –her sisters, her mothers- are dragged forward and screams as the dagger digs into their flesh. Yggdrasil holds her back, he makes her kiss each of their lips as the blood drips from their necks to her thighs.

“Surrender your throne,” hisses Yggdrasil, “Or are you this heartless?”

Shaking, Sigyn looks up into his grey eyes.

Sigyn says, “No.”

**~*~**

They spike the heads and leave them to rot in her cell. Accusing eyes stare out at her.

Sigyn hugs her legs to her chest. She sobs and shakes against the floor. Every part of her aches, burns and throbs.

She wants to die. She wants Loki.  

They come for her again.

They hold her head under water.

“Surrender your throne!”

Sigyn says, “No!”

They break her feet.

“Surrender your throne!”

Sigyn says, “No!”

They starve her. They piss on her. They taunt her. One of them pierces her mind with seiðr, exposing all her secrets.  

Still Sigyn says, “No!”

**~*~**

Yggdrasil comes to her.

“Why do you cling to a throne you do not deserve?”

Sigyn, lying on the floor in her own excrement, past hunger, past thirst, does not speak.

“You think you have somehow earned that throne simply by existing? Perhaps once upon a time there was a chance, but you spread your legs and surrendered your maidenhead, betraying everything that they tried to teach you.” He waves a hand at the heads.

Sigyn does not react right away. Her exhausted mind does not understand what he just said… and then it clunks into place. She blinks and looks at Yggdrasil, who leans over her, leering.

“You can’t deny it. You whored yourself to Asgard.”

Sigyn lowers her head and closes her eyes.

**~*~**

They put her in a box.

In that box is a nail.

Sigyn curls her fingers around the nail, and sees a chance.

Scratching the runes into the collar is almost beyond her –what’s the point? Yet something pushes her on, and finally she has the runes carved into the collar.

Her parents dead before her.

Yggdrasil beside her.

Malekith above her.

As the collar snaps and Sigyn’s seiðr returns to her, she loses all sense of fear and pain. Her power cuts through the enemy, knocking them aside as she flees.

She ought to stay and fight, but that is not her first instinct. It’s never been. Always she runs rather than stand.

When she comes back to herself, she’s in a forest. Her broken body draped over a huge tree root.

It takes her several long minutes to clamber off it. It takes even longer to move somewhere else, her seiðr forcing bones back into place.

At the edge of the forest, she sees her home and everything looks so peaceful she thinks she must have dreamed it all –what an imagination she has!  

That’s when Malekith’s ship breaks the clouds and blows up the palace.

In the chaos that follows, Sigyn retreats into the forest and curls up in a ball, wishing she were dead.

**~*~**

After a time (Sigyn has no more sense of what month it is than a dog) she staggers through the forest – away from her home –and happens upon some people huddled together around a campfire.

There’s a lot of screaming.

Sigyn can only imagine what she must look like, bald, covered in blood and very, very naked. Still, the people calm down when she drops to her knees and keels over –again.

Luckily they don’t expect her to say much, instead they talk about what was going on.

Alien Invasions.

Military crippled.

Royal Family suspected dead.

Everyone absolutely fucked.

Sigyn listens as if from a great distance. Existing hurts right now, and that’s all she can focus on. Anything else is beyond her.

That only lasts about a day and a half.

**~*~**

The universe has a funny way of making things happen. Sheer chance is not the only culprit, Sigyn is sure, as her three surviving Ey come upon the small group of terrified people and recognise her at once. (No one else has and Sigyn has not bothered to illuminate them.)

The Ey cluck around her in the same way they would if she had gotten a dress dirty. Sigyn’s not about to put down their coping methods. If it makes it easier to avoid looking at them, telling them what happened to the others, all the better.

Ljúfvina, dishevelled and trembling, explains they were stalked for weeks, driven away from towns and cities that they could have sought help at. Only with the assault from above had their pursuers given up.

They drag Sigyn to the nearest stream and cleaned her up. They weep over her broken bones, the scars across her flesh, her bald head.

It’s just a body, thinks Sigyn dully, a worthless body.

They find some clothes and dress her. They’re men’s clothes, so they don’t fit well. Oh well?

When they come back to the camp, the others look to Sigyn, wide eyed and hopeful.

“What now princess?”

“Save us princess!”

“What do we do princess?”

Sigyn has absolutely no idea, but she doesn’t want to stay so close to the capital. They move through the forest, hearing distance rumbles of ships overhead and armies on the ground. When it all stops more than a year later, Sigyn feels half deaf, unable to sleep without noise. Silence is so much worse.

**~*~**

They happen upon other groups, equally scared, equally shaken.

Other nobles have been trying to sort the situation out. The ones who said no to Malekith are dead. The ones who said yes… no one is sure.

Sigyn say nothing. Dazed and distant, she barely understands the words around her.

Ljúfvina, Ey Annarr and Ey Þridi form a triangle around her, one of them always holding her hand.

A man, former mayor of a large city that’s been levelled, strides to her and demands she fix this.

“Can’t you tell she’s been hurt?” demands Ljúfvina.

“I don’t care. She’s the princess, she’s got to fix this!”

Ey Annarr shoves him away and the three of them pull Sigyn aside.

“Mikilfengleg Kona,” one starts.

“Don’t call me that,” says Sigyn faintly. “I don’t deserve that title.”

“Of course you do-”

“No, it was given to me because of my birth, because I exist.” Sigyn holds up her hands in front of her face. They were covered in scrapes, broken nails, bruises, so weak and delicate. She curls them into fists. “Don’t call me princess or anything at all… just the name I was given by two people who hated each other.”

The others are quiet for a moment, then Ljúfvina says,

“Sigyn, you can still fight, even if you don’t feel like a princess –you have the education and the influence because of it. Use it, use it to save Vanaheim.”

Sigyn doesn’t know what to say, any answer she thinks of seemed selfish. She does not want this but it was up to her. But how can she ever hope to solve the problem?

The answer comes a few days later.

They are low on food, there are dying people everywhere they turned, and a man comes to them out of the darkness. Ragged, scared, exhausted, he collapses to the ground.

“They’re attacking the temples!” he gasps.

People haul him up, bringing him close to the fire, and Sigyn’s whole body goes ridged.

Yggdrasil recognises her at the same moment and rears up.

“Hold him!” Sigyn commands and, to her shock, she’s obeyed. The men hold Yggdrasil down, looking to her for further instruction.

They still have confidence in her.

It’s a terrifying moment.

She approaches Yggdrasil, seiðr sparking at her fingertips. Standing over him, she wants to wrap her fingers, her cracked, broken fingers, around his neck and squeeze. Yggdrasil looks up at her, hateful and arrogant. He expects her to hurt him.

So she does not.

“This man is responsible for the invasion of Malekith.”

“Lies!” he spits.

“You made a deal with him, he said he would help you overthrow the ruling family, my family. In exchange you would supply the army to help him destroy Asgard. I wasn’t deaf when you tortured me.”

The people around her shudder and snarl, they want to kill him. Sigyn holds a hand up to stop them.

“I want to use him.”

Everyone stares at her. Sigyn wonders for a moment how she looks to them, but the thought vanishes in an instant.

“You probably have all sorts of little cells from that terrorist group you had.”

“It was a freedom fighting organisation!”

“I want you to find as many as you can. I want you to gather information. I want to know where Malekith is, and what his plans are. You’re going to find it for me.”

Yggdrasil stares at her, then laughs,

“As if I’d help you!”

Sigyn stares at him, her seiðr sparking more violently. Yggdrasil eyes it nervously and then up at her with more defiance. He’s expecting her to use magic to make him obey.

Sigyn lets the seiðr fade away and she lowers her hand,

“You made your choice to rebel against my family, for why, you never made clear. It seems rather pointless now, doesn’t it? You did it for Vanaheim, because you believed it was best for Vanaheim, didn’t you?”

“… yes,” replies Yggdrasil, watching her nervously.

“Well then, it should be no hardship for you to do this, because it’s clear Malekith is not what is best for Vanaheim, is he?”

“You think it’s that simple to make me obey you?”

“No, but you’re obviously not stupid-” Sigyn doesn’t really believe that considering how he had been swayed by Malekith. “-since you managed to organise such a sophisticated system of cells that my parents knew nothing about. So don’t make the stupid decision for your pride, when you’re as responsible for this destruction as my parents and I are.”

“You’re not responsible,” starts Ljúfvina, but Sigyn waves a hand for silence.

“We both want to save Vanaheim, right? So we will work together.”

Yggdrasil doesn’t reply for a long time, but Sigyn feels nothing but detached emptiness. This was expected of her, this is what princesses did. So she would do it.

“Fine, but when we win I want a full pardon,” says Yggdrasil with a confidence he does not carry.

Sigyn nods without hesitation. She’ll just rescind on that agreement when she needs to.

The others insist on binding Yggdrasil for the night. Sigyn does not stop them. She never wished to be a micro-managing sort of queen.

Huh, with her parents dead she is now queen. That’ll take some getting used to.

Sigyn lies between her maids that night and wonders why Asgard has not appeared. She would try to contact Loki in the morning.

**~*~**

Ey Annarr and Ey Þridi take on new names. Their institute was gone, Sigyn does not want them to keep them –although she gives them final say.

Annarr becomes Magnhildr and Þridi becomes Dýrfinna. Sigyn sends them, and Ljúfvina, out to gather information. They are reluctant to leave her, but she insists on it. She needs them working for her, not coddling her. Besides, what she needs to do is best done when they aren’t with her.

Yggdrasil is still bound up, like a toy waiting to be brought out. They’ve fed and watered him more than he did her. It claws at her hate, but Sigyn needs him. She approaches him, summoning every bit of confidence she can scrape up. She pulls the gag out but holds a hand up before Yggdrasil can speak,

“Yes, yes, I’m certain you have some charming, choice words for me. I’m a whore, I’m scum, I’m worthless –we have been over this haven’t we?”

Yggdrasil blinks, but says nothing, staring at her with a new, more cautious expression.

“Look, we hate each other, but right now, we’re on the same side, so let’s actually work together. Do you think you can do that?”

Yggdrasil tugs on his restraints, raising his eyebrows sardonically.

Sigyn matches his expression, waiting. It’s like dealing with Loki in an un-talkative mood. Yggdrasil loves the sound of his own voice. She needs to let him do the work. Deliberately she sways on the spot and sags sideways, letting her exhaustion overcome her for a moment.

“Malekith wants the army, he won’t kill everyone,” says Yggdrasil. Sigyn lifts her head like it weighs oh so much and blinks slowly, doe-like and sweet. Yggdrasil’s eyes rake over her face and she can see a way to control him. It’s disgusting, but what does that matter?

“He wanted to marry me so he could have access to that army. I said no.”

“He said he wanted to destroy Asgard so that the other realms would be allowed to flourish,” says Yggdrasil. Sigyn wonders how stooping to Asgard’s methods would help the other realms flourish, but she says,

“So he will try to acquire control of the army? How can he expect to succeed like this?” She already guesses, but playing stupid will work on Yggdrasil, he’s a small man who wants to feel important.

“He’s undercutting the army’s structure, and then he’ll just turn every able bodied person into a soldier –they have technology that will allow it if he can’t use your magic to do it.”

“How do you know?”

“He offered it to me for you, but my seiðr experts said it would negate the magic that binds you to the planet.”

Sigyn looks away and automatically reaches up to push hair behind her ear, only to find nothing. It throws her for a moment, and she can see the pleasure in Yggdrasil’s eyes. Bastard.

They talk more about the avenues open to them, until people come to her and ask for her blessing. What exactly they hope to get from it Sigyn neither knows, nor cares, but if it makes them feel safe she’ll do it. Afterwards she goes away from the group and tries to send a message to Loki. Her magic rebounds against something and she knows Malekith has done something to keep Vanaheim isolated.

They’re on their own.

That night there’s a blinding flash in the sky and Sigyn watches pieces of Bifrost tumble down to the ground like meteors. She can hear the booms from a distance as they hit, and she hopes they landed on Malekith’s ships, which are starting to land.

**~*~**

Vanaheim has numbers, but Malekith has highly advanced technology, probably built in the greatest secrecy so Heimdall could not see.

Heimdall had not been as useful as she might have expected him to be –like so much of Asgard and its lofty ideals.

Yggdrasil stays near her, Sigyn knows he wants to help, but he also wants to watch her struggle. It gives him a sense of power and satisfaction in this terrifying time.

The small group moves from place to place, trying to gather information, but more importantly they have to reassure as many people as they can that Sigyn is still alive. She is the focus of all hope and need across the planet.

No pressure then.

Sigyn has the idea after four days of walking. They have more followers, and there are fires all around. They might be seen, but they are cold and hungry, so they risk it. Abruptly Sigyn stands and pulls her clothes off.

“Sigyn?” asked Ljúfvina. Sigyn ignores her, her focus on the fire, which twitches and twists as if coming to life. She inhales and pulls seiðr from her surroundings, her gaze turned inward. She steps into the fire, amid cries of alarm, but the fire does not hurt, it’s like stepping into a bath. She pulls the flames higher and wraps them around her body, concentrating with all her might. It’s the same principle as casting multiple illusions, something she did over and over until she was sick, just to prove she could keep up with Loki.

Around the rag-tag camp the other fires all start to morph and Sigyn can see everything, everywhere. Her head aches with overload, and she wants to vomit.

No, stay on point idiot!

Opening her eyes, she can see flashes of shocked, dirty, frightened faces, her people all across her planet, looking into their fires with awe. Among all of them she can see the white, tattooed face of Malekith staring in disbelief.

“I am Queen Sigyn of Vanaheim, I am alive, and I will fight. Malekith, you have signed your own death warrant, and I swear you will never profit from what you have done here. My people are strong, they are loyal, and they are proud. We shall never become your army of slaves.”

The faces swirl around her, billions of faces, but she keeps her focus on Malekith, because he’s the one who has to hear this.

“Hear me Malekith, you are weak and you are a coward –and I shall hold your heart in my hand before you will ever come close to conquering this realm.”

And because she can’t resist it, she blows a kiss at Malekith and twirls out of the fire, knowing Malekith will see that image burned on the insides of his eyes until he can take her.

“What are you doing drawing his attention to you?” bellows Yggdrasil.

“If he thinks he can still take over through me, his attention will be fixed. That gives us a better chance of doing things in other places, and protects the people. And now the people know I’m alive.”

“Idiot! There had to have been a better way-”

Ljúfvina, Magnhildr and Dýrfinna all jump to their feet.

“No, don’t come between us,” orders Sigyn. They part and Sigyn faces Yggdrasil, refusing to tremble before his anger. That anger had resulted in her covered in her ladies’ blood. “If you think that, then you’ll help me ensure that it doesn’t happen.”

Everyone looks to her. Yggdrasil’s mouth hangs open.

Good.

“And how am I to do that?”

Sigyn throws a punch at his face. He catches it and throws her to the ground. Sigyn laughs as everyone else cries out.

“You’re going to teach me to fight your way. Dirty.”

**~*~**

They keep moving, and gather intelligence and supplies. Malekith does just what Sigyn hoped, he chases her, and she sends vulnerable people away so they can’t be hurt in this game of predator and prey. When she’s not gathering information and trying to plan a way to defeat Malekith, she trains with Yggdrasil. Her muscle memory comes back and Yggdrasil is a terrible teacher, but Sigyn wants to show him she can be strong.

Somehow proving herself to Yggdrasil becomes tied with saving her people. If she can do one, she will achieve the other.

She knows she’s falling into a bad mindset, but it doesn’t stop her cartwheeling down it like a fool.

The other cells of Yggdrasil’s group come out of the woodwork. Tethered as he is now to her, Yggdrasil talks them to Sigyn’s side.

Such a sweetheart.

After countless days, Sigyn knocks him down and pins him, knife at his throat. Yggdrasil’s eyes widen as he looks up into her face. She can feel his cock rise against her –and she knows she has him. She shoves him hard and flees back to her tent. She knows what will happen next.

It doesn’t happen the first night, or the second, and each day she trains with Yggdrasil, letting him get close, but pretending she doesn’t notice.

It’s more than ten days, when Ljúfvina, Magnhildr and Dýrfinna are all elsewhere, that he enters her tent. She feigns sleep as his hand reaches under her top and palms her breast, only stirring when he puts his weight on her.

The panicked struggling isn’t feigned.

She kicks him out, but she knows he’ll come back. She has something he wants, and with his old cause gone, it will become his fixation. She needs that. The shame and disgust she feels is inconsequential compared to what’s at stake.

Yggdrasil trains her harder than ever as punishment for her rejection, but he also tells her more, and she listens. She learns.

She learns what his rough fingertips feel like squeezing her nipple. She learns the length and breadth of his hard cock against her thigh. She learns he hates tears, and they protect her. Again, she doesn’t need to feign them.

She cries no, but never stop. Stop would break this terrible dance they’re doing. Each time she forces herself to weaken her struggles, lets him think he is getting closer to what he wants, lets him imagine that she is falling for him and it is only her honour, her feelings for Loki, that hold her back. Let him see Loki as a rival.

The bodies are everywhere, the stench of burning in the air.

Dýrfinna is killed by a bombing. Ljúfvina sobs and Sigyn holds her, stroking her hair as Magnhildr goes behind a tree with one of the women. Yggdrasil watches them hungrily and Sigyn knows as soon as she’s alone he will try again. Her grief makes her wonder if it’s worth fighting, after all, what does it matter if he does get what he wants?

No, if he gets it, she’ll lose him, and she needs him.

She needs him, she tells herself as she fights him off, crying desperately.

**~*~**

“What’s he worth?” Yggdrasil demands, “Tell me what makes him so special that you seal your legs together?”

Sigyn’s tired, her head aches and she’s still bald. Her hair, all of her hair, refuses to grow back. It’s annoying her now.

“What?” she mumbles, trying to make sense of Malekith’s fleet movements through her headache.

“That Aesir king, why show him such loyalty? He’s abandoned you to your fate.”

“The Bifrost is gone in case you missed the pieces falling from the sky.”

“What about your precious secret paths?”

Sigyn does not know. She wants to think it’s the Bifrost but she does not know and it’s letting in trickles of doubt.

“Why do you care?”

Yggdrasil does not answer. He will never tell her that he’s in love with her (as much as a creature like him can love) and is bitterly jealous of Loki. He wants to know why Sigyn can love Loki and not him.

“Malekith’s not assaulting the cities anymore. He’s more focused on control than fear now,” she tells him.

“He needs to be drawn out.”

“Then let’s draw him out.”

**~*~**

The plan fails and Magnhildr is dead because Sigyn is a failure.

She stares into the flames of the campfire and sees face after face of all the people she has lost.

She feels numb, detached from herself. When Ljúfvina comes and holds her, she feels nothing but the sense of dangling over a gaping maw –and she wants to let go.

She can’t let go, she has to make this stop.

She just hopes that when it does stop, she doesn’t survive.

**~*~**

It’s been so long she cannot recall a better life, save in dreams.

She dreams of Loki, his hands on her flesh, but he quickly turns into Yggdrasil and she wakes in fear.

The days go by and the more she broods on things, the worse things seem to be. She remembers Loki’s tantrums, his constant rebuttals of her sexual desires –whenever he agreed to something new it was with the air that he was doing her a great favour. She thinks about Fenrir and Jörmungandr, about how Loki had never stood up for them. What father doesn’t stand up for his children?

She thinks about her parents, how they had let her be taken from them to be raised by women who kept her wrapped up in ritual and traditions that had nothing to do with how real Vanir lived. Who ever heard of preserving virginity –it had all been a way to keep her from forming attachments that would be unpolitical. With so much uncertainty about how the new monarchy would work, they had not wanted to risk anything with the heir.

And look how well that turned out. They had driven her so deep into isolation that she had thrown herself into Loki’s arms without hesitation and now… now look where they were.

“If I’d never been in love with Loki, do you think this would have happened?” she asks Ljúfvina and Yggdrasil in a moment of wild, horrible understanding.

“No,” says Yggdrasil, cutting across Ljúfvina. “If you’d actually bothered to look around and see what was happening here instead of spreading your legs-”

“You don’t know what would have been different,” says Ljúfvina, which is not a denial of the question. “Your parents should have-”

“Don’t!” hisses Sigyn. She cannot bear to think about her parents, about how they could have let this happen –and whether they had even missed her when she had been Yggdrasil’s prisoner.

“This world, the other worlds, they don’t revolve around just you and your actions,” says Ljúfvina, and she’s entirely too rational for the mood Sigyn is in. “He’s the one who gave Malekith a way in.”

“I wouldn’t have needed to if she and her parents were decent rulers!” snaps Yggdrasil and Sigyn wants to scream for years. She wants to scream through time and tell herself to grow up and stop running around with Loki and focusing on Loki’s misery and Loki’s life, his problems with his parents, with his brother, with the whole of Asgard. She wants to tell herself that her world needs her and if she could only act like a real princess then none of this would have happened.

Sometimes she thinks that is a flawed way of thinking.

Yet if she hadn’t been so useless she wouldn’t need to let Yggdrasil grope her and pull at her clothes just to keep him with her. He would follow her because he believed in her –but if he had believed in her, none of this would have happened.

**~*~**

There are battles against Malekith’s army. They have technology, the Vanir have magic and familiarity with the land. Sigyn learns she has good aim with a stolen gun, and she finds it cathartic to stab these things to death like a maniac. She never understood the appeal of berserker rage before, but now… now she would happily feel it for the rest of her life.

They draw enough attention over and over that Malekith loses patience and decides he must deal with Sigyn directly. She makes him angry by constantly dancing and singing in the fire, picking a song she knows will strengthen her people and irritate Malekith. Sometimes she fancies she can hear the whole realm sing as one when she does this. It gives her hope for a few minutes.

**~*~**

Malekith is coming.

Sigyn lets Yggdrasil tie her up, a fake collar on her neck. He throws her at Malekith’s feet in the temple they have let him corner them in.

Ljúfvina does not need to act her hatred for him as she fights some of the others, who hold her back at a safe distance.

Malekith looks down at Sigyn with cold indifference. It’s a world away from Yggdrasil’s burning, hateful desire but they both want the same thing from her.

Malekith bends down and lifts her by the throat. Her feet dangle and she whimpers.

“You should have submitted to me sooner. Fewer people need have died,” he tells her.

Sigyn cannot pretend he’s wrong.

Malekith drops her on the alter, his hands pulling down her trousers, and it’s all the same, over and over again, and she won’t – she can’t ever be like Loki.

The knife materialises in her hand and she stabs Malekith in the neck.

Actually, it’s less of a single dignified stabbing and more a frenzied hacking. There’s blood and screaming and all she sees is red. By the time she’s done Malekith’s head is hanging by a bit of sinew. When she looks up the temple is a blood bath, all of Malekith’s soldiers are dead. Ljúfvina runs to her, stunned but beaming.

“He’s dead, he’s actually-”

She stops, staggers, looks surprised, then drops to the floor. The knife Yggdrasil stuck in her back slides free and he whips around, slicing the neck of the only other survivor. Sigyn’s knife is stuck in Malekith’s spine and she cannot breathe.

Yggdrasil advances on her, drags her up onto the altar and resumes what Malekith started.

“Now Vanaheim can rebuild anew. With you and I-”

“SHUT UP!!”

Sigyn launches herself at him, her thumbs pop his eyeballs and she sends raw seiðr through him like electricity, burning him with all her rage. He howls and writhes and she bites his face because if she doesn’t she’ll scream.

Then he is dead and she hates, hates, hates with all she is. She hates him, she hates Malekith, she hates her parents, she hates herself, she hates Loki. The air suffocates and she collapses.

The world twists and folds, she cannot accept, cannot forgive, she wants every Dark Elf to die, she wants every one of Yggdrasil’s followers to burn –Asgard, where is great and glorious Asgard? Where are their warriors always spoiling for a fight? Where is their king who wails about proving himself but is nowhere to be found?

What is she but a wasted chance, a pathetic creature who cannot control her own body’s whims enough to do the right thing? A weak, disgusting thing –does not deserve to live, does not –will not –cannot –

“The one time I really needed you and you weren’t there!”

Who is she talking to –who is she? What is she?

She falls and falls and falls, but feels the hard ground, sticky blood, unmoving and unrelenting and she cannot stop falling. She screams in silence and pulls her seiðr inwards, wanting to cease to be, to never ever wake again and face what is and must be –let it scorch her, let it cleanse her whorish being into something of worth –let her die and something better come forth in its place. Let them all burn and scream as she cannot.

**~*~**

When she comes to some sort of sense, she finds Ljúfvina and Yggd(Rasil) kneeling down on either side of her, and she does not care that her body is malformed, she is so much better this way. She does not care that Yggd(Rasil) touches her when they are alone, because Ljúfvina dries her tears, and Sigyn can do this, because she has to, because if she does not more will suffer and she cannot let more suffer because of her.

So she will lock away her wants and needs, she will do whatever she must to restore Vanaheim to greatness. She will rule for the people and when they ask it of her she will lie back beneath whomever they choose and let them plant a child inside her –her malformation will not stop her from giving the starving families a reason to hope.

Maybe she can even love the child she gives them –though it doesn’t really matter. It didn’t matter that her parents did not love her, because she understands now what it means to be a leader, to be a queen. It doesn’t matter that Loki looks at her with open longing, because Yggdrasil will remind her that everything that happened happened because she put Loki first. Loving Loki cost the lives of five billion people –not because of love, but because she, Sigyn was weak.

Ljúfvina toys with her hair at night, cold against her skin but there and real, and all she needs. And Ljúfvina asks,

“Can you not see this is not the way it should be? Can you not let yourself feel what is so natural to you and love once more? Love Loki, love his sons, love Berach and love yourself?”

And Sigyn looks up at her, her rock, her strength and her safe guard from Yggdrasil’s hissing words. Sometimes she seems to dazzle, as if Ljúfvina were not quite… but she asks questions of Sigyn and Sigyn can only answer truthfully.

Sigyn says no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably imagine, between the different style, the amount of information and sheer horror of the whole experience, this chapter was not easy to write. But I hope it explains enough of Sigyn’s trauma to make clear why she’s so messed up now.  
> Hope you… enjoyed it probably the wrong word for it, but you know what I mean.  
> 


	21. Saying Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter will be less sad. Enjoy!

**Chapter 21 –Saying Goodbye**

Sigyn’s screaming reverberated through the mausoleum, magic cocooning her in gleaming purple. Rasil bellowed but did not touch her. Ljúfvina wore a bitter smile as Loki pressed harder against the wall. There was a crack like snapping glass and the cocoon vanished. Sigyn was left heaving on her hands and knees, leaving the taste of petrichor in the air. Nothing seemed to have changed and yet Sigyn looked like she had travelled a thousand miles.  

She looked up, tears on her face, eyes blazing.

“What did you do?” she shrieked.

“They’re killing you Sigyn, you have to stop doing this,” said Loki. Sigyn snarled and Loki thought she might launch herself at him, but then she whirled around to look at Rasil.

“Why couldn’t you give me a chance? Why couldn’t you let me try?”

“Let you fail and bring us down? Let you suck Asgard’s cock for a pet on the head?” snarled Rasil. Loki clenched his hands so hard his short nails broke the skin.

“You brought Malekith down on us!” Sigyn cried.

“You failed as a princess –your one duty in your spoiled pampered life and you failed at it!” Rasil spat at her and Sigyn shrieked, clambering to her feet,

“I’m not failing now!”

“You’ll always fail, look at you, exposing your secrets to him! An enemy monarch, who laughed at your pathetic attempts to be a decent princess. All he wants is for you to be his broodmare and mother to his children. Why does he disrupt our balance? You need me to have any chance at succeeding –to keep you in line and remind you of your place.”

Loki wanted to protest Rasil’s words, but he feared drawing Sigyn's attention. Rasil was starting to look a little less substantial.

“I can do it!” Sigyn cried, sounding close to tears. “I will make Vanaheim strong again, I will!”

Rasil snorted,

“I’d like to see that!”

“You will! I will show you I can do it!”

At this Rasil became more solid and he smirked. On the altar, the bodies flickered and the illusions came back. Loki moved forward and, with a messy punch of raw power, he smashed the illusion to bits, revealing the mutilated face of Rasil. The action made Sigyn whirl around and her eyes landed on the body.

“You can’t show him anything Sigyn,” said Loki firmly, gesturing at the body. “He’s dead –he’s been dead for months, he cannot hurt you anymore.”

“No! No, I have to show him I can do it, I have to prove I can be a good leader,” cried Sigyn. She seemed to have forgotten her suspicions and fears about Loki in the wake of Rasil’s exposure.

“You are a good leader –I couldn’t have coped with what you have here, I doubt any of the other leaders could have either,” said Loki desperately. This was the crux of it, he was starting to understand exactly what drove this magic onward. “Letting this illusion hurt you –that is letting him win. That is proving him right. You have to stop letting this thing hurt you.”

“She needs me,” spat Rasil behind Sigyn, and Sigyn’s face was almost grey as she looked back at him. Rasil was starting to become slightly opaque, but Sigyn was clinging to him in the face of reality.

“No, you don’t need him Sigyn. I know you feel you do, that he reminds you to focus on what matters. But he doesn’t. I don’t know what he was like when he was alive, I don’t know what he did to you, but he’s a monster and you don’t need him.”

“I… I… can’t.” Sigyn was trembling so much Loki thought she might collapse.

“Sigyn… if you don’t let him go, you’ll never get better. You cannot be a true queen if you cannot defeat this thing. Some doubt is good, but this is self-torment. Keeping these illusions going will drain you, it will kill you and then where will Vanaheim be?”

“Better off,” hissed Rasil and Sigyn covered her face, letting out a broken moan.

“No life would have been better off without you in it,” Loki promised.

“He’s just saying that so you’ll let him-”

“No I’m not! Forget our relationship. Forget our history. Even if it had not happened I would never regret knowing you. I know no one who would.”

Sigyn peered at him through her fingers and he could see how much she wanted to believe him. It was the most honest thing she had shown him since they had reunited. Loki kept his voice steady,

“You’re not responsible for what happened –I know it helps make sense of it all. Blaming yourself makes you feel like you have some measure of control, I understand that. I did the same with Angrboda-”

“Don’t you dare compare the two!” Sigyn shrieked and her hands flew from her face. She looked beside herself. “It’s nothing like that! I’m not you!”

Loki clamped down the hurt, it was irrelevant right now.

“You know I’m right Sigyn. You know that you can’t continue like this.”

Tears tumbled down Sigyn’s face. As she wiped at them Loki noticed for the first time her hair moving in an unnatural way. And he remembered that other detail.

“Sigyn, don’t you think it’s these illusions that are stopping your hair from growing back?”

“More spying!” laughed Rasil. “What else has he been watching? Our negotiations with the other realms?”

“No, I swear I didn’t, I only wanted… I wanted to make sure you were safe,” said Loki desperately.

“Still spying,” she mumbled, swaying on the spot. She looked exhausted.

“Yes, I was spying on you, and that isn’t the way to build trust. But Sigyn I’ve been terrified for you,” said Loki, clutching the altar so he would not reach for her. “Please, please stop hurting yourself. You don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t know,” she gasped, “I had to let him get close, I needed him to want me so I could control him.”

“I understand,” lied Loki, “But he’s dead now, and you have to let him go. You beat him Sigyn, you’ve beaten him a hundred times. You’re leading Vanaheim back to reclaiming everything he helped take away.”

“I’ll never get it all back,” she whispered into her hands and Loki ached.

“Maybe you’ll never get it back the way it was, but you can get it back to a place of wonder, and I’ll help you. I promise. Please Sigyn, get rid of that illusion, let him rot, and be forgotten.”

“Forget your place,” hissed Rasil, but he was distorting and his voice was garbled. He did not seem able to move anymore.

“Your place is on that throne, not because of your birth, but because you earned it. You’ve earned your throne Sigyn, more than anyone who sits upon one right now, save maybe Aetril and you stand equal with her now.”

Sigyn looked startled, but there was no mistaking the hope his words brought. Loki smiled,

“Your people love you, as much as Aetril’s love her. I could only wish to be so loved.”

“Flat-ry,” Rasil grabbed at his throat, his voice was almost gone.

“Come here,” Loki begged, holding out his hand to her. “Please, come here.”

Trembling, Sigyn took his hand and let him pull her closer. Loki revelled in her touch but did not dare try for more. He just pulled her to the altar and look down at the mutilated face. Sigyn took a ragged, wretched breath and sobbed, turning away and covering her face. Looking past her, Loki saw Rasil was almost completely gone. Unmoving, silent, murderous faced, he was almost transparent, like a glass statue. What would it take to remove him completely?

“How did he die?” Loki asked quietly. Sigyn sobbed harder than ever, and Ljúfvina spoke.

“He killed me.”

Loki looked at her, unsurprised to see that she too was starting to fade away. Instead of anger, Ljúfvina had a bittersweet smile on her face.

“We had just won, Malekith was finally dead and I was coming to Sigyn, to hold her, and we were finally going to be safe. I was going to her, I looked so happy…” Ljúfvina’s face lit up and Loki listened, hearing Sigyn’s memory spoken from the person she had loved. “And Sigyn wanted to hide in my arms, as she had so many times when we were fighting –when I was there to keep Yggdrasil from touching her. It was going to be so wonderful to embrace, knowing we could at last rebuild… but Yggdrasil stabbed me.” Her smile faded away, and she turned revealing a knife sticking out of her back. Sigyn howled and collapsed to the ground.

“I died right there, so close to Sigyn and our shared happiness. I could have had my own life, a life I had given up for her, because it was my duty.”

“Because you loved her,” murmured Loki. Ljúfvina nodded,

“Yes, my princess, my sister… she wanted me to grow old, fall in love, have children of my own. She wanted to hold my children and love them because they were mine. And in that moment when it could all start to come true, Yggdrasil took it away.”

“So Sigyn killed him.”

“She would have had him executed for his crimes, that was the plan, she was going to hold him accountable. But when he killed me… and showed that he had learned nothing, he still thought he could have Vanaheim, have her… he took me away to isolate her… so she had to punish him.”

“That’s understandable.”

Ljúfvina nodded again,

“But she couldn’t cope without us –for better or worse, we were her closest allies… and without us she had no one. No friends, no family, no one at all… especially when she blames her feelings for you as the cause of all this misfortune, and won’t trust any of the other realms not to take advantage of her weak heart.”

Loki looked up to contradict the words, but found Ljúfvina smiling at him with open affection.

“I know that’s not true… yet I am not the only voice… and even when we go, we’ll still be there.”

“I know… but I’ll help her.”

“If she’ll let you,” said Ljúfvina, striding forwards and kneeling in front of Sigyn, “It’s time for me to go Sigyn.”

“No!” Sigyn howled, throwing her arms around the illusion, which was still real enough that she could hold it. “Don’t leave me, please, I’ll keep you safe this time, I won’t let anyone hurt you again!”

“Sigyn, you know it wasn’t your fault –you know it because I’ve never blamed you, and all I am is an extension of you.” Ljúfvina was gentle and tender in her words, stroking Sigyn’s hair and smiling with open love. Love Sigyn felt for herself? Or love she desperately needed to be given.

“Don’t leave me alone, please, please, I don’t want to be alone!” Sigyn sobbed, “I’ll be good, I’ll be-”

“Shush now, you aren’t alone.” Ljúfvina looked up at Loki, who nodded.

“Sigyn, you’re not alone, I’m here-”

“I don’t want you! I want Ljúfvina!” Sigyn cried. Loki, struggling to control the hurt in his chest, crouched down and rested his hands on Sigyn’s shoulders. His hands passed through Ljufvina’s and he knew they were nearly there. Gently, he tugged Sigyn backwards, and Ljúfvina let her go, her arms passing through Sigyn’s body. When had Sigyn last been touched by a real person? Slowly, as if she were an easily spooked animal, he wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest. As her head came to rest on his collar, Sigyn let out a broken howl, and the illusions of Ljúfvina and Rasil vanished without a sound.

Loki held his wife in his arms, feeling stabs of grief at her suffering cut through him with every wretched, broken noise she made. They were unearthly sounds, he had never heard such pain, and he thought he had felt pain in his life. He did not try to shush her, he just let her grieve, holding her up, holding her close, as she had done so many times for him. He did not try to kiss her tears away, or reassure her that he loved her, now was not the time. Right now all he could do was let Sigyn get it all out. His hand rubbed her back, trying to ease her breathing as she struggled to take in enough air to continue her sobbing.

Then, quite abruptly, Sigyn stopped crying and sat up, looking straight at Loki. Her face was blotchy, flushed and pale in patches, eyes swollen hugely and salt from her tears marking her cheeks. Yet her eyes were bright as jewels and as she stared at Loki, he felt uneasy.

“You…” she said softly and Loki knew, instinctively, that something was about to go wrong. “No! You cannot be here!”

Sigyn launched herself at Loki, her hands curled around his throat and squeezed, knocking him to the ground. She climbed on top of him, thumbs pressing on his windpipe and he could not breathe.

“No!” he tried to say, pulling on her wrists desperately, but Sigyn was much stronger now, and Loki had not been keeping up with his own training. He let go of her wrists and pressed against her chest, trying to push her off. It never even occurred to him to use seiðr in that moment. Stars popped in his vision as his air ran out, his lungs screaming.

His mouth formed the word ‘Please’, but he could only gasp softly. Was he really going to die at the hands of his wife, who looked down at him with wild panic and hate?

Then Sigyn’s hands were ripped from his throat, and his lungs expanded as he coughed and spluttered, sucking in air desperately. Sigyn’s weight was gone from his chest, and he rolled onto his front, pushing up onto his hands and knees. He could hear Sigyn and someone else struggling. He looked around to see Prince Berach wrestling with Sigyn, who now seemed determined to strangle him.

“No! No you can’t be here, you can’t!”

“Hush my darling,” said Berach, and his hand passed over her brow. Sigyn gave a great shudder and collapsed in Berach’s arms, unmoving.

“What have you done?” cried Loki, struggling to his feet and stumbling to the pair.

“She’s simply sleeping, don’t worry,” said Berach, laying Sigyn on the floor of the vault. As the ljosalf prince pushed her hair tenderly out of her face, the wig slipped off and revealed the completely bare skin underneath. “Ah mo banphrionsa beag daor, what terrible things you have suffered.”

“… how long have you been here?” asked Loki in confusion as he knelt down on Sigyn’s other side.

“I was inspecting the bodies when you all arrived. Not wishing to cause Sigyn alarm when I was still investigating my suspicions, I hid. I should have known you were doing the same.” He gave Loki a look that was a kind of fond exasperation. “I assume you had also found it improbable that the king and queen’s bodies were really here in state.”

“Yes, I did,” lied Loki, looking down at Sigyn. “But why did you stay hidden?”

Berach’s wings twitched and he said,

“I wanted to see what you would do –and I still didn’t know what was going on with her two servants. So… I felt it was prudent to stay out of the way.”

“Well, thank you for intervening when you did,” muttered Loki, rubbing at his throat.

“It would be a terrible blow for Sigyn when she comes to her senses if she had killed you,” said Berach, but he gave Loki a brief smile as he said it. Loki snorted, then looked at her again.

Asleep, all the airs and confidence Sigyn wrapped around her were gone and it was clear how ill she was. She was gaunt, her cheekbones as prominent as Loki’s, and her skin looked like paper. Without the wig, she seemed much smaller. Yet, Loki admitted as he rubbed his throat again, she was not without strength.

“We need to get her to bed,” said Berach, “And we need to keep people from seeing these bodies until she’s ready to deal with them.”

“We’ll have to lock the vault to everyone,” Loki raised a hand and cast wards to gently encourage people to go somewhere else. Then he sealed the door to all but Sigyn, using his knowledge of her magic to code it just right. When he was done, he looked at Berach who was looking amused. “What?”

“How did I never notice how similar your seiðr is to my little one’s?” Berach asked. Before Loki could answer, Berach picked Sigyn up into his arms and stood up. “Can you get us to her chambers?”

“I think so,” said Loki, reaching out and resting one hand on Berach’s shoulder and the other on Sigyn’s.

“Wait! Grab the wig.” said Berach.

“Oh!” Loki swept up the wig and made sure he was touching both Berach and Sigyn, concentrating on the palace. There was a horrible sensation and when he opened his eyes, he was relieved to see they were in the right spot, judging by the clothes and the wig stand. He placed the wig upon it while Berach laid Sigyn down on the bed. She did not so much as stir as he pulled the covers up to her chin. Loki watched him as he stroked her face as tenderly as Loki stroked his sons', and he said in wonder,

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Berach did not react at once. He finished his gentle assessment of Sigyn, then straightened up and gave him a doleful expression.

“For someone everyone says is so brilliant, you are remarkably dim. Of course I love her, I helped raise her! If I never have a child of my own I’ll be satisfied because I had her. Just because you two concocted this infantile world where only you have any idea what love is doesn’t mean people’s love for you or her disappeared.”

Loki flushed, but rallied quickly,

“If you love her as a daughter, how could you even consider marrying her?”

“That was my mother’s plan, and I already put that idea down before you lost the Bifrost.”

“…oh.”

Berach rolled his pale eyes,

“Just because we don’t share our schemes and feelings with you doesn’t mean we’re fools or incapable of caring. My mother asked that I not speak of not marrying Sigyn until she had a new plan in play, but she respected my wishes not to marry the woman I view as a daughter.”

Loki could not stand the other man’s condescending tone, and snapped,

“If you love her so much where were you when she was so miserable? Where were you when she was drinking herself to sleep so she wasn’t crying? Why did you never step up and tell her parents to give her more freedom?”

“Because as much as I love her, I am a reigning prince of another realm. I was not going to try and tell the king and queen of Vanaheim how to raise their daughter. I knew that every choice they made was political, whether they wanted it to be that way or not. The way Sigyn was raised was to try and appease all of Vanaheim, to help them embrace her-”

“And look how well that worked!” snapped Loki. He knew he should not pick a fight but it felt so good to have someone to rail over who could have actually done something.

“That is not my fault, nor was it my business. I did what I could, I let her run and play when she was in my care, often defying the Svana as much as I could without offending Sigyn’s people or parents. I tried to bring her out into the world… what did you do? Convince her to hide away with you while you marinated in your own pain like a child?”

“Don’t you dare talk about something you don’t know anything about!” snapped Loki.

“I know enough! My mother has lived at your court for three years, and we both knew enough to guess at details once your sons were brought into the light. You claim to love her, and yet what did you do but drag her down into your self-indulgent misery?”

“She chose to be at my side! She chose to travel with me to Midgard, we explored the realms and practised seiðr you can only dream of! I was her choice.”

Berach narrowed his eyes, and Loki knew he was about to say something cruel,

“I wonder if she would have chosen you if she had had any other option?”

Loki could not stop the inhale of shock at the question. Worst of all he found he could not shout ‘Yes’ with the absolute conviction he once had. Berach frowned and then sighed heavily.

“That was unnecessary of me, I apologise. This is ridiculous, we’re fighting over who loves her better –and she just made an attempt on our lives.”

“She’s not well,” said Loki defensively.

“Obviously, which means we have to help her get better. The only problem is that she won’t let us.”

“You mean because of Rasil? But he’s gone, his influence, I mean it’s still there, but surely it won’t be as powerful as it was.”

“Possibly, but we won’t know until she wakes. There’s every chance that she’ll be even more determined to keep us at bay. The attempt on your life was not just some reaction to the seiðr dissipating and overwhelming her, it was about trying to hide what she’s feeling. You and I are witnesses to her vulnerability, she won’t forgive that.”

“She tried to kill me because of what I know?”

“I think so,” said Berach.

“But she might feel differently once she’s had time to rest, I highly doubt she’s slept well with the way her seiðr was acting. Such a strain on her system was making her ill.”

“Agreed, but we won’t know what the lasting damage is for a while, if we ever do.”

“So what now?”

Berach grabbed a chair and sat backwards on it, so his wings were not crushed.

“I intend to stay until she’s awake, and then I will try to speak with her. It might be a good idea if you did the same.”

Loki nodded and sat in a soft chair near the bed, privately thinking that Sigyn might feel ambushed by the pair of them, but not willing to leave. They did not speak as they watched Sigyn sleep. Loki found it soothing to sit and listen to her breathing, just like when he listened to the soft breathing of his sons. He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes sunlight was filling the room and Sigyn was gone. He sat up in alarm, spotted Berach asleep on his own chair.

“Berach! Where’s Sigyn?”

Berach started and his eyes popped open. He looked around, standing up.

“How –how did she…?”

They both looked around and Loki spotted steam coming from the next room. He crossed the room and pushed the door open. Steam wafted into his face and he blinked. He was in a bathroom, and the large, built in bath was full of water. Sitting in the bath was Sigyn, her head tilted back, her arms stretched out over the rim. She did not seem to notice Loki’s entrance as he stepped closer, her eyes closed and her form absolutely still. As Loki edged closer, he looked at Berach, who stayed back.

“Won’t you join me Loki?” called Sigyn. Her voice caused a chill to travel down Loki’s spine. He turned back and Sigyn stared at him with blank, cold eyes. As he hesitated, she waved a hand at the water, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

“I’ll wait out here,” said Berach softly and he shut the door. Loki swallowed and started undressing. Sigyn watched him without a flicker of expression as he set his clothes aside and eased himself into the bath. It was uncomfortably hot and his skin quickly flushed pink, but all Loki could focus on was Sigyn’s body. The water was up to her waist, leaving her chest exposed. Although Loki had already seen it in Mýrkjartan’s recordings but it was different in the flesh.

“Something wrong Loki?” asked Sigyn, her eyes gleaming. Loki sighed,

“You know there is Sigyn. What’s happened to your breasts?”

“Hmm?” Sigyn made a show of looking down at her chest. It was completely flat, and her nipples were gone. “Oh, they appear to be gone, along with the rest!”

Through the clear water Loki could see between her legs and saw there was nothing there. Sigyn was completely sexless. With her shiny bald head and her flat, unmarked skin, she looked like an unfinished figurine.

“I can see that,” said Loki. “But I don’t understand why. I thought this was a side effect of the seiðr you’d lost control of, that it would reverse when you stopped those illusions.”

“Clearly you were wrong,” said Sigyn.

“Yes, but again, I don’t understand why. Why are you like this?”

“Does it matter?” asked Sigyn, skimming her fingertips over the water’s surface. Loki took a deep breath, he knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, and he could only assume it was a petty way of punishing him for seeing so much. “Then again, I suppose it matters to you because you liked my breasts, didn’t you? You also liked my slit, so you could-”

“I’m not playing this game Sigyn,” said Loki firmly.

“Game?”

“I’m not playing this game where you make me out to be some sort of user, who only wanted your body, because we both know it isn’t true. I’m also not playing this game where you try to act like you don’t care that I know what you’ve been going through.”

Sigyn’s face spasmed and she looked furious for a moment, then she smiled.

“I tried to kill you last night. That was unfortunate, I apologise.”

Loki sighed heavily, disappointed, but he nodded,

“No harm was done. I’m still alive… and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really? You’re going to stay here, without my welcome and abandon your own-”

“Stop,” said Loki, “I told you I won’t play your games. You know what I meant. I will not let you drive me away, I will help you however I can-”

“And what if I don’t need your help?” Sigyn spat.

“You have it anyway. This is not a political manoeuvre, my actions are entirely personal.”

“We’re king and queen Loki, politics and personal actions are one in the same for us,” said Sigyn curtly. She seemed to have dropped her shield of detached taunting for the moment.

“Perhaps in some cases,” Loki conceded, “But I’m saying that I will not try to use my knowledge to undermine you or harm Vanaheim. I want to help it, help you, that’s why I’ve been working with you on the Reset.”

“Purely out of altruism?”

“No. I was hoping that spending time together would help us reclaim what we had. The success or failure of that will not interfere with my interest in helping Vanaheim. I am not Odin, I am not Bor, I have no desire to take advantage of your sufferings to increase my own power or prestige.”

Sigyn regarded him and Loki decided to be honest,

“All right, I would hope to have Vanaheim as an ally, your support and friendship as one monarch to another. I don’t think that is too much to ask.”

“That, at least, is honest and realistic,” said Sigyn, sliding her hands through the water and over her thighs. Loki swallowed, trying to keep his attention on her face.

“Will you please tell me why you’re like this?” he asked quietly. Sigyn arched an eyebrow at him, then sighed,

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Loki shook his head.

“I have shut down and done away with those parts of me that make me selfish. The parts of my body that cloud my mind and impede my judgement.”

“D-done away with?” Loki felt sick as he looked from her face, to her empty chest and down.

“I’ll bring them back when the time comes to bear an heir, but otherwise, what use are they to me?” asked Sigyn with a shrug. Her dismissiveness appalled Loki as he stared at her. Was this the same woman who had taught him to embrace sex as an expression of joy and pleasure?

“Sigyn… how can you talk like this? You understand how important sex and love making is-”

“I was wrong,” said Sigyn coldly. Loki tried to hide how much this single statement left him reeling. It was like Frigga telling him that seiðr was worthless, it went against everything he knew about Sigyn and this topic. “Sex is distracting. If I had not let my sexual organs control my behaviour, Malekith might never have invaded.”

“That’s not sound reasoning. Malekith didn’t invade your realm because you and I enjoyed making love.” Even as he said it, Loki knew it wouldn’t get through to her. As much as Rasil’s spite had become a crutch for Sigyn to cope, condemning her sexuality was another one. Loki knew that tearing another prop away so soon would be impossible.

“So, what now?” asked Sigyn, ignoring his words completely.

“What do you mean?”

“What will you expect of me now you know what you know? I cannot have you blabbing about my… unfortunate seiðr state to your council, or anyone else. What must I do to buy your silence?”

Loki swallowed down his automatic response of nothing, because he knew she would not believe it. This Sigyn wouldn’t trust him with anything and she was justified because Loki had spied on her darkest secrets. But what could he ask for? He did not want anything that would drain Vanaheim’s resources, and he would not try to demand anything personal from her. Then he hit upon an idea. He glanced at the door, then crossed the large bath to sit beside Sigyn. She watched him apprehensively, but he did not touch her. He lowered his voice and said,

“You know that I have Prince Byleist prisoner on Asgard?”

Sigyn nodded,

“And that I’ve denied the people of Jötunheim their casket?”

Again she nodded, frowning at him.

“I know you offered Queen Farbauti your help with the negotiations of Byleist’s release. I’m asking that you don’t interfere.”

“I offered that as a queen, I cannot just-”

Loki took a chance and grabbed Sigyn’s hand.

“Sigyn, I’m asking, for my silence, that you trust me with this situation. I have a plan, but I haven’t been able to do it without the Bifrost.”

“What are you planning?” Sigyn asked and for the first time her tone of voice was something familiar. Loki looked at her carefully.

“For my silence, I must have yours.”

Sigyn nodded, and Loki squeezed her hand tighter, “I’m not going to give the Casket back to the Jötnar, because I plan on destroying it.”

Sigyn’s mouth fell open,

“You can’t! It’s their heart, they need it!”

“They’re addicted to it. It’s got a grip on them from the moment they’re conceived, and it keeps them from getting better.”

“Getting better?”

“Laufey was so addicted to the Casket that between its loss and the loss of my mother and I, he didn’t care about anything. That’s why he never rebuilt Jötunheim, and moreover, it’s why the realm is dying. Do you remember the books you gave me, when I first became king?”

“Yes.”

“Reading them, I learned that Jötunheim was once a much more diverse realm, like Vanaheim and Alfheim, or Midgard, but colder on average. Between that and my birth mother’s notes, I know Jötunheim was drastically altered by the Casket, to make it more hospitable for Frost Giants. It’s probably driven all the other giants, or whatever they call themselves, to the edge of extinction. I intend to right this mess.”

“Since when do you care about the people of Jötunheim?” asked Sigyn.

“In truth I still don’t care for them overmuch, but I cannot stand this sloppy seiðr, especially when it abuses nature the way the Casket does. It only exists because of my conception, so I have a duty as a seiðr user to fix it.”

“How will you destroy it?”

“Mjölnir, she’s the only thing strong enough to do it.”

Sigyn’s free hand came up and rested on Loki’s shoulder and in that moment, they were back to where they had once been, together.

“The blast radius –it could kill you!”

“It’s a risk, but-”

“You need another seiðr wielder, one that will protect you while you destroy the Casket, you can’t do it alone!”

Loki looked into her eyes, and saw the warmth that he had been seeing in Ljúfvina’s eyes for months. The illusion had been right, the love she had felt for him was still there. So it killed him to say,

“You can’t come with me, you’re right that it’s dangerous, and Vanaheim needs you. I’d want no one more, your seiðr and mine are familiar, it would be the safest combination, but I can’t ask it or let you do it.”

Sigyn’s hand slipped from his shoulder, the warmth dimming, but Loki stood firm. It was best for Vanaheim that she stay far away from his plans.

“What about the casket you made? That fire one? What if it has harmed nature in some way? Will you destroy it too?”

Loki had not thought of that.

“I… maybe, I don’t know enough about it to make a judgement on it. What I know now is that if you want the Reset to truly work, the Casket has to go.” This was not something he was completely sure of, but it sounded good.

Sigyn nodded, and ran her hand over her neck thoughtfully. Loki found himself staring at her lips, and between his legs his cock gave a slight twitch. Colour rose in his face and he tried to focus on something less attractive… like Sigyn’s self-mutilation –yes that did the job horribly well.

“You can use my Bifrost, since yours isn’t ready,” said Sigyn softly.

“Thank you.”

“And ask Berach to help you, that way I know you’ll have the best aiding you. I don’t want Asgard to fall apart now because you got yourself killed, not when I need all the realms on board with my plan.”

“I can’t, he’s a rival prince, I don’t want him involved. I’ll find someone in Asgard. I’m only telling you because you knew some of the details, it will affect the Reset and because I need your Bifrost.”

Sigyn scowled, but nodded. Loki reached up and touched her chin, turning her face to his.

“Sigyn, I need you to trust me in this. Once I destroy the Casket, I’ll probably need to release Prince Byleist just to keep the peace. I’ll need you and Alfheim to help keep us from descending into war.”

Sigyn’s eyes widened.

“You’d trust me to do that?”

Loki hesitated, because he really could not be sure Sigyn wouldn’t try to outplay him just to prove she could. He dropped his hand from her chin to hold her hand in his two, saying,

“You could have made all of Svartalfheim pay for what Malekith did. You could have destroyed them, broken them so they would never again harm anyone. Instead, you only ask that they acknowledge their defeat. You've kept them involved, you clearly care about the peace of the realms, and had no desire to make them suffer forever, the way Odin did to the Jotnar. Knowing that… I trust you to be a peace making queen, and thus, I trust you to do what needs to be done to keep that peace.”

Sigyn’s expression crumpled into something that looked like pained gratitude for a moment and she nodded hard.

“Do it soon,” she whispered, and she held his hand as tight as he did hers. Unable to resist, Loki rested his brow against her temple for a moment, and she didn’t pull away. Then, too soon, Sigyn let go of him and stood up.

“You should go, I don’t want anyone knowing you were here.”

Loki nodded, his eyes fixed on the water drops rolling over her rump, which was not altered the way her sex and breasts were. He supposed a backside was a backside, and hers was firm, and round and he felt the sharp, violent impulse to cup it rise inside him. Sigyn grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, killing his impulse as she turned back to him.

“How did you get here?” she asked, frowning at him.

“Uh…” Loki had to think, he had been in such a panic that he had not paid attention to his own actions. “Well, I guess we know the paths between Vanaheim and Asgard are not going to kill us anymore.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes.

“You’re a fool.” Loki was certain that her words held a warmth in them, and he grinned sheepishly as he stood up. Sigyn’s gaze drifted to downwards and he thought she was looking at his cock for a moment. “Your scar is back.”

Loki touched the mangled scar tissue on his abdomen, the leftover from Fenrir’s birth.

“My body was restored to its original form when I gave up my metamorphosis.”

Sigyn nodded and her hand twitched as if she wanted to touch the scar. Then she turned away and climbed out of the water. 


	22. The End of Bergdís’ Legacy

Despite Sigyn promising to keep her silence, Loki knew he could not risk waiting much longer. He had to get Byleist out of Asgard and he could not do that until he destroyed the Casket. Yet Sigyn was right, he needed someone to help him. The only question was who?

Mýrkjartan was an obvious choice because the man would lay down his life for Loki without hesitation, but Mýrkjartan was not a skilled seiðr user. Frigga could have done it, but Loki could not risk losing his defacto heir nor would he risk leaving the boys without a family member. In truth, he would have wanted Sigyn at his side, but her seiðr was unstable as well as her mind and he had meant what he said. He did not want any other realm involved in this.

Loki sighed to himself and summoned the only person who could help him. Sverrir arrived in minutes and bowed to him.

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me,” he said with a small grin.

“You’re too annoying to forget,” said Loki in a lame attempt at teasing. He was already regretting his decision.

“What do you need of me?”

“I… I need your help, with something very dangerous,” said Loki. Sverrir’s eyes widened, and an obvious unease crept into his expression.

“Oh?”

Loki summoned the Casket of Ancient Winters with a wave of his hand and held it aloft. At once the skin on his hand started to change colour.

“Oh!” Sverrir stepped closer, staring at the blue creeping under Loki’s sleeve. “Why did you not change colour when you took it back after Byleist and Gerd were caught?”

“I levitated it just above my hand so it did not touch me.”

“Clever.” Sverrir’s eyes roamed over Loki’s face as the blue of his Jötun heritage crawled up his face. Loki tried not to feel annoyed, Sverrir had never seen him like this before and he had more than earned the right to be curious. At least Sverrir did not look uneasy, just fascinated.

“You still look like you, I can still see you in there, it’s just such a dramatic change.” Then he coughed, “I’m being rude, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Loki with a dismissive twitch of his head. The room was now uncomfortably warm and he wanted to move quickly. “You recall that I said the Jötnar would not get the Casket back.”

Sverrir’s expression fell,

“Yes.”

“You thought that was harsh.”

“It’s their heart, you said it yourself. Denying them the Casket condemns them to a terrible death-”

“I lied,” said Loki abruptly, cutting his friend off.

“You, you mean you will give it back?”

“No. I’m going to destroy it on Jötunheim.”

“Destroy it?” Sverrir looked appalled. Loki explained as he had to Sigyn why he needed to do this. Gradually, Sverrir calmed and finally, he nodded. “You’re right. It needs to be destroyed. But what do you need me for?”

“I need someone who knows seiðr, and even though you don’t use it openly, I know you learned well from your father. I need you to cast a shield around me while I wield Mjölnir. The blast from the destruction of the Casket will be extreme. Sverrir, I ask this of you, but I will not order you to. This is extremely dangerous, and you have a family.”

“So do you,” said Sverrir.

“And if I could trust anyone else with this task, I’d do that.”

“Liar,” said Sverrir but he looked anguished. “Loki… I would help you, you know I would. You’re my best friend… but my family need me.”

Loki nodded, he had half hoped that Sverrir would say that, but it left him with a problem.

“Who is left to ask to risk their life to save the Frost Giants?”

Sverrir frowned and looked out the window thoughtfully.

“Well…” he said slowly. Loki looked at him and recognised he was uncomfortable. “What about Gerd?”

“Gerd?”

“She must have powerful magic to conceal herself and Byleist from Heimdall, weakened though he was, and Mýrkjartan and… everyone else. The kind of magic it would take to maintain a form that is not natural like she did for so long.”

Loki frowned, absentmindedly stroking the Casket like a cat.

“She is a Storm Giant, so she wouldn’t be affected by the Casket… and destroying it would give her kind a chance of survival, if they still live.”

“If she won’t, who will she tell?” asked Sverrir. Loki nodded and quickly sent the Casket back to the vault.

“Let’s go see her.”

~*~

Loki had not seen Lady Gerd since she had been brought back in chains to the capital, but his mother had promised that she was well cared for. He was pleased to see that was indeed the case as he and Sverrir entered what was usually a living space for ambassadors. It was clean and airy, and full of what Loki thought were paintings, but a second look revealed them to be embroidered.

Sitting by the window was Lady Gerd. She had not bothered to hide her true species and despite the cleanliness of the rooms, she did not look so well. Her hair was wilder than ever, and her clothes were dirty, as if she had not changed them in a while.

“Lady Gerd,” said Loki as he and Sverrir entered. Gerd jumped and whirled in her seat.

“King Loki!” She slipped from her chair onto her knees and she bowed low. Loki waved a hand impatiently,

“Get up, I want to speak with you.”

Gerd pushed herself up to her full height. She towered head, shoulders and chest over the two of them and as Loki stared at her, he tried not to see Angrboda in her face.

“You were able to conceal your true appearance for countless years, and hide from myself and Heimdall for three. You must have powerful magic.”

“I was a priestess before I came here… I practised my magic whenever I could after my… after I was brought here.”

“Concealment spells are not dissimilar to shield spells, are you familiar with them as well?”

Gerd nodded, staring at him with a blank expression.

“I need a seiðr user who can cast a powerful shield,” said Loki, “One that can withstand a huge amount of force, and can be flexible in what it will and will not protect from.”

“I can do that,” said Gerd quietly.

“Good. I must warn you that it will be dangerous.”

“I already said I’ll do it my king.”  

Loki liked Gerd.

~*~

Sigyn kept her word and they used her Bifröst to go to Jotunheim. Gerd inhaled so loudly and sharply than Loki half drew his dagger.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my home, it can’t be my home,” said Gerd, looking around.

“This is Jötunheim as I know it,” said Loki, secretly pleased. He had been right about the environment. Damn his birth mother, messing with magic she had no right to. “Come, we have to find a safe space.”

The Vanaheim Bifröst had deposited them far away from civilisation, per Loki’s request, but they were a little too close to the mountains for Loki’s comfort. So they walked, without speaking, away from the peaks. Loki was swinging Mjölnir at his side, getting used to the weight of it. Gerd moved at his side, shivering as she stomped through the snow. Eventually Loki could not tolerate the silence.

“You didn’t ask me for anything, why not?”

Gerd looked surprised, then shrugged,

“What could I ask for? Since I was dragged back to Idavoll in chains I have been living a peaceful, painless existence. It’s more than I could have hoped for by now.”

Loki flinched and looked at her.

“You could have asked to remain here.”

Gerd smiled sadly, “Byleist said something similar. I couldn’t make him understand that I knew coming home was just going to be… coming home to die. I’ve lived more of my life in Asgard than here, and I doubt my family lives and if they do… would they remember me, would they want me? Besides, my children are in Asgard, and I do love them, even if they despise me. A mother’s lot I suppose.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Loki firmly, thinking about his own birth mother, who had put his health at risk for her own experiments when she was carrying him.

“In any case… I only wanted to come home to die, at my own hand,” said Gerd. Loki stopped walking and stared at her in disbelief.

“You made a bid for freedom, only so you could kill yourself?”

Gerd shrugged, “I’m weary of life, no matter how things may change it will never take away all the years I spent as Freyr’s slave, watching him give my children to his sister to raise, knowing he blamed my beauty for his actions. I have not had any control in my life since I was a girl. I would at least like to decide how it ends.”

Her bland tone reminded Loki of Sigyn’s when she talked about her banished sexual desire. Flat and accepting. It was disturbing but he had no idea what to say to it. They continued on in silence until Loki was satisfied that they were in a safe spot, using the same spell he had used on the illusionary Rasil and Ljúfvina to check there were no people around. Satisfied, he pulled the Casket from the interdimensional pocket he had stored it in. Gerd’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“It is a beautiful thing,” she sighed. “Byleist will be devastated at what you’re about to do.” 

“He’ll feel differently when he’s no longer under the Casket’s influence.” Loki set the Casket down and watched as it sent out flares of ice blue seiðr, recognising where it was. They would only have minutes before the Jötnar knew it was here. He gripped Mjölnir and looked at Gerd, who was frowning at the Casket. “Lady Gerd?”

Gerd looked at him, and there was something… bittersweet in her gaze.

“Thank you, King Loki, for your mercy.”

Loki frowned, but before he could ask, Gerd cast the shield, and at the same moment, his wards gave a warning. Jötnar were coming. They had to be quick!

Mjölnir was singing as he raised her, delighted to be used once more by her uneasy master. He stared down at the Casket and heard in the back of his mind, his birth mother screaming in rage at what he was about to do. All her work for naught. He smiled grimly and swung down.

Mjölnir hit the Casket with an almighty crunch, and the Casket flared with power, throwing up ice shards to protect itself. Loki raised the hammer again and brought it down, hearing a crack. Gerd’s shield spell held back most of the seiðr it was unleashing on him, but he could feel the wrath of the half sentient thing trying to fight back. He brought Mjölnir up one more time, but a bolt of blue speared the shield and hit him square in the chest. Loki roared in pain, cold cutting through him like a white-hot knife.

“King Loki!” cried Gerd, but Loki ignored her, forcing himself to bring Mjölnir down on the Casket. There was a loud, definite crack and Loki was blown backwards as all the power contained in the Casket was unleashed. His vision was flooded with blue and then he knew nothing.

~*~

When Loki came to, he was surrounded by snow, buried deep inside it. He thrashed his way to the surface, gasping for air as he broke through and looked around. Light blinded him for a moment and he blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. Blurred shapes came into view and he blinked again, finally bringing into his sight a clear blue sky. He stared in disbelief, he had never seen a cloudless sky on Jötunheim before. The sunlight on the snow was stunning and he could not pretend it was anything but beautiful.

“Gerd… Gerd?” He looked around for the storm giant, but could not see her. He could see the rock that had been exposed when the Casket had been destroyed –and considering how far away it was now he was lucky the snow had broken his fall. Waving his hands to summon a seeking spell, Loki noticed that his hands were blue and cursed colourfully. The stab of ice magic in his chest must have done it. He had to get out of here before anyone saw him and drew the wrong(right) conclusions.

“Gerd!” he cast his spell and set the little golden orb spinning away from him. He scrambled after it, worried when it moved closer to the epicentre of the blast. Why had he been thrown so far and not her? He thought about her last words, about their whole conversation and felt a sense of alarm. Surely she had not just…

The orb settled at last upon a vaguely person shaped shadow burnt into the rock. Loki stared at it for a long moment, stunned. That was it? It felt so… abrupt. He went down on one knee and gently touched the shadow,

“… I hope Hela looks after you,” he murmured. He did not feel grief, he had not known Gerd enough to feel it, but it was still sad that she had taken the chance to die. She must have planned it the whole time. A roar broke his musing and he looked around. People were running towards him. He pulled the device Sigyn’s people had given him out of his pocket and pressed the button. At once there was a shimmer of colour and he was whisked away in silence. He landed next to Heimdall, who looked at him gravely.

“You’ve destroyed the Casket.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, his eyes fixed on his still blue hands. He shook them as if hoping to knock away the colour. “Damn.”

“That will have consequences,” said Heimdall.

“Only to the good, I’m sure,” said Loki distractedly. He could not shift his skin tone back to normal.

“As you say my king,” said Heimdall drolly. Loki did not pay him much attention, he was trying to quiet the growing panic at his inability to change back. “Might I suggest using Mjölnir to get to your chambers before you are seen?”

“Yes, thank you!” snapped Loki, still flexing his fingers as he walked out of the rebuilt observatory. He swung Mjölnir once and she hauled him up into the air, singing happily at her achievement. He landed in his chambers and shut the balcony doors, collapsing onto his bed and examining his hands in the dark. He had not shifted into his full Jotun form since that night in the Vault when Odin had collapsed. Was this the last legacy of the Casket? His chest was still aching from where the seiðr had pierced him, and his skin felt raw.

Exhaustion was dragging at him and he was struggling to keep his eyes open as he realised he had not really slept since the night before last. Feeling overheated he stripped off all his clothes and yawned, running his tongue over his teeth. He could feel several of his teeth were sharper, but it wasn’t the mouthful of fangs he had imagined as a child. Touching his own chest, Loki traced a few of the tribal markings that flowed over his pectorals, noting with some unease that his nipples were gone. It made him think of Sigyn and he shivered despite the heat of the air. Remembering the way she had denied her sexuality completely, Loki dropped his hand to his crotch and curled his fingers around himself. His cock more or less felt the same, with some new ridges that he could not pretend he was not curious about now.

“Papa?”

Loki had never dressed so fast in his life. He barely had a pair of soft trousers pulled up before the door to Jörmungandr’s room opened and his son came in. Loki shrank into the shadows, unsure what to do. Jörmungandr was rubbing his eye and blinking blearily around.

“What’s wrong son?”

“I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?”

Loki swallowed, he would never deny his son, and it had been a while since Jörmungandr had sought his comfort so openly. Yet…

“Of course you can Jörmungandr, but… papa doesn’t exactly look like himself right now. I don’t want you to be frightened.”

“What’d you mean?” asked Jörmungandr squinting into the dark at him. Loki took a deep breath and turned on the lights, just enough to make his colour clear. Jörmungandr’s mouth formed a tiny ‘o’ as he stared up at him.

“Why do you look like that?”

What to do? Tell the truth or lie, like Odin and Frigga had to him. Yet if Jörmungandr had talked about Sigyn, what was preventing him talking about this? The last thing Loki needed right now was this knowledge getting out.

“I… had an accident with my shapeshifting. I’m a bit stuck right now.”

Jörmungandr reached out a hand and Loki let his son touch his arm, little fingers tracing over the elaborate markings.

“I like this! It’s all cold,” said Jörmungandr, looking up at Loki’s face and smiling. Loki returned the smile, feeling something relax in his stomach. Then Jörmungandr gasped as blue started to travel up his own arm, markings and ridges forming, replacing his soft grey colouring with a much darker blue. Loki had to fight the impulse to wrench away before he hurt his son, knowing this was probably just Jörmungandr’s Frost Giant side emerging. Certainly Jörmungandr did not seem to be troubled by it at all, he was staring open delight.

“I didn’t know I could turn blue!”

Despite himself Loki laughed.

“You’re a natural shapeshifter, you can be anything you want my son.”

“I like this form,” said Jörmungandr as the blue bled over his face and his eyes changed to a soft red, so unlike his usual pale grey, and yet nothing like the bloody hue of a full blooded Jotun. Even his blue was paler than what Loki had seen, but that surely was to be expected since he was only a quarter frost giant. “The air feels warmer now.”

“Well, you’re shifting into a Jotun, a Frost Giant.”

“Like that prince you’re holding prisoner?”

Loki blinked. He had not realised his son was aware of the… of his uncle –of Prince Byleist.

“Exactly like him.”

“Wow…” murmured Jörmungandr, touching his face. “Do you think I could be like Queen Aetril? I’d love to have some wings.”

Loki chuckled and picked his son up, holding him close.

“I’m sure you could learn. There’s probably no more naturally gifted shape shifter in the nine realms than you.”

Jörmungandr beamed, his facial markings pulling with his skin. Loki stared into his son’s face and felt no sense of fear or horror as he looked at him. He grinned and rubbed his nose against Jörmungandr’s, eliciting giggles and grumbles.

“Papaaaaaa!”

“Come on, bed,” said Loki, crossing the room and climbing on top of the covers. Jörmungandr wriggled around and pulled at Loki until he was satisfied he would be comfy and then promptly started snoring. Actually, thought Loki, it was less like snoring in this form and more like a rumbling purr.

Loki chuckled to himself and settled down to sleep.

Tomorrow would probably bring enough trouble.


	23. A Few Steps

Jötunheim declared war on Asgard for the destruction of the Casket.

Queen Aetril and Queen Sigyn stepped in to try and keep the peace. Loki allowed the two women to convince him to release Prince Byleist and Sigyn arranged to send him home. Loki’s final glimpse of his half-brother was him following Sigyn to the observatory so the Vanir Bifröst would take him home.

It had all gone just as Loki hoped, with one minor exception. While he was not surprised that Aetril obviously knew ‘convincing’ Loki was a bit of a farce, he was surprised at how little effort Sigyn put into pretending she cared. She had barely said three words, allowing Aetril to conduct the negotiations, such as they were. Instead she had stared off into the distance most of the time while Loki and Dowager-Queen Farbauti exchanged thinly veiled insults and Aetril did her best to keep the situation civil. If the talks had not been on Vanaheim, Loki doubted she would have bothered to turn up.

Had he not told her he wanted her to show her skills as a peace-making queen? Why wasn’t she making an effort?

The only thing Sigyn actively did was turn up to collect the prince. After Loki officially bid Byleist pardon and farewell, he watched as Sigyn rested her hand on Byleist’s arm, as she had so often during the Ostara festival and smile up at him.

“Come Prince Byleist, let me take you home.”

Byleist looked down at her and Loki thought he saw something softening in his face as he looked at her. Loki would almost call the expression something close to attracted.

Oh that was all he needed!

Loki gave himself a shake as he watched the two walk off together. He would worry about that later. Right now he was more concerned with getting his own Bifröst working again. At the very least it would give Asgard something of its old presence in the Nine Realms.

~*~

Sigyn pulled her furs tighter around her body and walked with Byleist in silence as they made their way to the huge, crumbling palace. Except it was not crumbling anymore. Everywhere Sigyn looked she could see men and women working on the structure. Byleist paid it no mind, instead he stomped straight for the throne room, Sigyn having to almost run after him to keep up.

It was almost not worth the effort she thought as she watched Helblindi leap from his throne and crush his brother in a hug. Sigyn’s chest gave a deep pang of longing and she looked away. She listened as Farbauti greeted her son and only looked around when Helblindi addressed her.

“I welcome the Vanir queen.”

Sigyn looked at the family and did her best to keep her burning jealousy off her face.

“Helblindi King,” she greeted, inclining her head.

“I thank you for bringing my brother home to me.”

“It was nothing,” said Sigyn, half tempted to try to shift her form to something more like the Jötnar to ward off the cold. However, her shifting ability was currently somewhat compromised and she did not want to risk embarrassing herself. She had already done plenty of that in front of Loki and Berach.

“I am still grateful,” said Helblindi firmly. “I am also pleased to meet you at last, my mother says you and she had discussed at length the details of our arrangement that your maid and I worked out months ago.”

Sigyn nodded. She could remember being here before, even though she had never set foot on this realm herself. Ljúfvina’s projection had been strong enough to come here and act in her stead, and now that the spell was undone, Sigyn could relive the memories as if she had been here. It was odd to see a scene from three perspectives, and it made her feel ashamed of herself.

“Yet it would appear our arrangement has come to an end,” said Helblindi, moving back to his throne, his brother and mother at his side.

“Has it?” asked Sigyn, following them to the foot of the throne. Helblindi sat and narrowed his red eyes at her.

“The arrangement between us was we help you rebuild and in exchange you would help us get the Casket. As the Casket is now gone, the arrangement is now at an end.”

“I see no reason why that should be,” said Sigyn as her heart began to hammer. She needed Helblindi’s people, they were strong and large and she needed that to rebuild her realm. She needed more workers period. “All that’s changed is the terms. We can still work together. Our shared dislike for Asgard is only matched by the fact that neither of us can really afford to be in conflict with them.”

“You think Jötunheim could not fight Asgard?” asked Helblindi.

“I think you could annihilate each other in what would be an ultimately pointless stalemate.”

Byleist made a rumbling sound that might have been a growl, or a chuckle. Helblindi looked at his brother for a moment, then looked back at Sigyn, who hated how small she was compared to them.

“What do you propose?”

“I propose that we re-evaluate the situation. With the loss of the Casket I’m guessing your world is about to undergo environmental changes. My people are experts on natural magic, we can help you keep things stable, or else you’ll probably find yourselves suffering the most extreme of weather conditions.”

Farbauti twitched and Sigyn raised her eyebrows.

“We have had downpours of water the likes of which I’ve never seen,” said Farbauti reluctantly.

“We can help you,” said Sigyn with confidence she did not entirely feel.

“You cannot help yourselves,” said Helblindi with an impatient wave of his hand. “Your scorched land does not feed you!”

“No, but that is different. Malekith did not use seiðr to do that.” Sigyn was proud of herself for not stuttering on Malekith’s name, as she had been doing ever since Loki had forced her to confront her own weakness. “Your situation is an overload of seiðr, which we can help with.”

“What makes you think we cannot without you?” demanded Helblindi. Sigyn clenched her hands into fists inside her fur cuffs.

“Because I don’t think you’ve been able to use true and mighty seiðr since the Casket was made.”

There was silence as the three Jötnar looked upon her with identical blank expressions. It told Sigyn that she was right.

“Whatever power the Casket gave you, it came at a price. Your individual power was greatly reduced and you’re out of practise now. You need my people. And my people need you. So can we skip the prideful posturing and do something productive?”

Byleist did laugh this time.

“I told you she would be interesting!” he huffed at his brother. Helblindi nodded solemnly, but as Sigyn stared into his face, she saw the signs of amusement and respect in his face. At last the king nodded his great head and rose up,

“I think we can come to an understanding, Sigyn Queen,” he said.

“Perhaps we could even come to more than that,” said Farbauti with a bit of a leer, leaning her arm on the throne. Sigyn’s eyebrow twitched as she looked at the dowager queen. Farbauti shrugged, “Just because the last time one of ours wed one of yours was an unmitigated disaster doesn’t mean it would always be so.”

Sigyn frowned,

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she said, allowing herself to look confused. Farbauti studied her expression, searching for a sign that she knew more, that she knew about the last queen. Finally Farbauti snorted and shook her head,

“It does not matter. I merely make the point that we have a spare prince, and you are without a husband. It could do us both some good.”

Terror blossomed through Sigyn’s body and shredded her stomach to a bleeding mess as she said,

“I would need to speak with my council, but I doubt they would have any objection to opening negotiations.”

“I just got back woman!” cried Byleist to his mother, “Let me at least have enough time to piss in my own home before you send me off.”

Helblindi laughed at the indignant tone of his brother, and clapped him on the shoulder, then smirked down at Sigyn.

“He’d be delighted with such a match, I assure you Sigyn Queen.”

Sigyn smiled as if it was all so funny and not terrifying.

“I have no doubt.”

That was perfectly true, she thought to herself as she left the palace to safely call her Bifröst. Byleist would not object to her as a wife, he liked her, that had been obvious the last time they had met and it had not changed since. In truth, Sigyn could think of no logical reason not to consider the match. What she knew of Byleist told her he was a kind, if gruff, man and would probably be an adequate husband.

Sigyn managed to get all the way back to her rooms before she gave into her body and vomited into the toilet. She heaved and heaved until there was nothing in her stomach, and then collapsed onto the cold floor, where she lay trembling for what might have been hours. No one came looking for her, even as the sun set and the moon rose.

Maybe she could just call Ljúfvina back for a few minutes. Just a few minutes would be all she needed. A few minutes with arms around her and loving words in her ears.

No. She would not give into her own madness, her own weakness. It was bad enough that she had sat before her council and explain why her two closest advisors were no longer around. Sigyn had told them the truth, she had been too exhausted and hopeless to lie anymore. A part of her had hoped that they would force her to abdicate, because she would never surrender willingly. That throne had cost too much.

Yet all Sigyn wanted to do was stop existing.

No, she would not call the projection.

Well… there was always the other option. He was only a few floors away.

“My sweet girl, if you think you can make me leave your side you’ve forgotten who I am,” Berach had told her when she had ordered him to leave after that humiliating night. Sigyn had commanded, cajoled, and outright threatened Berach to try and make him leave. The prince would not be moved and Sigyn had been too tired to fight him. However, she would not see him. A month Berach had been in the palace and she had not seen him once.

It would be so easy to call for him. He would come running, he would crouch at her side and hold her in his arms, whispering loving words into her hair.

Sigyn ached.

No.

No, she was queen and she would not be so shamed by a rival royal. Hauling herself to her feet, Sigyn forced herself to wash her teeth, drink her dreamless sleep potion and collapse onto the bed. She woke feeling sick again and had to use all her willpower to stop herself from vomiting again.

She had a proposal to discuss with her council.

If they agreed with the idea, she would accept the proposal.

In a heartbeat Sigyn saw herself lying beneath the huge form of Byleist, felt his huge girth stretching her body beyond the breaking point. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground. Byleist’s face changed to Malekith’s, and then to Rasil’s, and she could smell the decaying heads of her Svana and her Ey, feel the collar around her neck again.

Sigyn stuffed her fingers into her mouth and screamed, screamed, screamed.

Ten minutes later, Queen Sigyn sat before her council and gave them the news with all the lightness of one discussing the weather. All the while, her insides still felt like they were being shredded.

~*~

The Bifröst was finally working. So far it was able to land in Alfheim and Vanaheim, and although they did not test it, Loki assumed it would land in Jötunheim and Svartalfheim. However, he had no time to really test it because there were fervent and intense meetings between him and the other royals, because time was running out for the Convergence. It was still months away, but Loki and Sigyn knew Midgard, knew it would probably take months to get them to trust the other realms to perform the ritual, which was as prepared as they could make it without a location to work with.

However, that was where they were hitting a problem.

“What do you mean they don’t have a single leader?” demanded Farbauti at their latest meeting on Vanaheim.

“Just that,” said Loki, “They don’t have a unified system. There are hundreds of countries with their own systems of government. Some are ruled by monarchs, others are ruled by councils, with an elected leader, and there are so many varieties of those I’d be here all day trying to list them.”

“But then who will be the point of contact?”

Loki hesitated. He was not sure about that. It had been a while since he had been on Midgard and he had never paid attention to the details because he had had other things on his mind.

“The realm itself.”

Everyone looked at Sigyn. She was sitting at the head of the table as usual, but gave every appearance of not listening to a thing being said. Her gaze was fixed on the window to her right, distant and sombre. Despite still wearing her big wig and elaborate clothes, there was something unkempt about her that made Loki think she was not taking the care she had before.

“Sigyn?” pressed Berach. Sigyn blinked slowly then turned to them with an abrupt snap of her head.

“Make the realm itself the point of contact. Tell them all, and let them figure it out.”

“You want their whole realm to know at once?”

“Midgardians are suspicious, nasty little creatures when they’re in groups. They like their secrets, but we can’t afford that, so don’t give them the chance. They have a network, they call it the internet. Everything in the world is connected to it, and they have billions upon billions of communication screens, from giant screens to hand held devices.”

“And all of them are interconnected?” asked Aetril dubiously.

“More or less,” said Sigyn, “Certainly it’s the easiest way to reach the broadest range of people. They have a council called the… United Countries or something like that. I imagine it will be there that the decision will be made.”

Silence followed this as everyone contemplated the information. Then General Sina spoke up,

“And what happens if they refuse to give us access?”

Sigyn’s expression spasmed and her eyes flashed. In that moment Loki saw the same crazed rage that had consumed her when she had tried to strangle him. Without meaning to, he braced himself, but then Sigyn gave a sweet smile that was infinitely worse.

“We’ll simply have to convince them, won’t we?”

“And how do you propose we do that?” asked Aetril with a note of warning in her voice. Sigyn shrugged, spreading her hands and her smile morphed into a broad grin.

“That’ll depend on them, won’t it? We’ll just have to see how petty and small minded they are, how easily spooked and vicious they are.”

Loki swallowed, folding his arms across his chest. It could not be plainer that Sigyn would not be diverted from her path and would clear the path however she had to. Loki did not like the idea of trying to force Midgard’s hand, it would inevitably be messier in the end, and he disliked the idea of Sigyn thinking like Malekith. However, he, like the others, was perfectly aware how desperate Vanaheim was to heal. And Sigyn was quite right, the abuse of seiðr that had been going on for millennia had upset so many things in the subspace. As it was, Loki was contemplating destroying his Casket of Primal Fire, just to be safe. They needed this ritual to happen, before the situation became untenable. It was not just Vanaheim, but all the realms tied into Yggdrasil. They could not let the pettiness of Midgard stop it.

“I’m sure we can charm them,” he said. “Midgardians like new things, technology in particular. Correct me if I’m wrong Queen Sigyn, but are they not as invested in the idea of space travel as the Dökkálfar? I seem to recall hearing of a ‘Space Race’ between two of the larger countries.”

Sigyn nodded,

“There was, although it was more of a ‘moon race’ since that was as far as they got. Now they seem to spend their days going no further than their own orbit.”

“Then could the Dökkálfar not offer to share their technology? A payment in exchange for being able to use their realm?”

A curious smile crossed Sigyn’s face,

“Well that wouldn’t be up to me, it would be up to the Dökkálfar.” She turned her gaze to Enfys who was trying to shrink into the chair as usual. “What do you think Enfys?”

“It… we have no ships left to give,” said Enfys nervously. Loki had so far managed not to address the man directly, no one had really. It was hard to respect someone who was so obviously cowed. As far as Loki was concerned he and all his people deserved it for what they had done. However, to Loki’s great surprise, Sigyn snapped,

“Oh stop cowering Enfys! You’re representing your people, show some dignity!”

Everyone looked from Enfys to Sigyn and back, matching startled expressions on all their faces. Enfys looked terrified,

“My –my queen, I-”

“I’m not your queen! You are not my subject,” snarled Sigyn, suddenly furious. “Pull yourself together, I’m not going to rain down destruction and death on you and yours heads. I am not Malekith, so stop acting like I could be. The very implication insults me beyond reproach.”

Enfys’ expression became baffled, and Loki too was somewhat bewildered. Had Sigyn not conquered Svartalfheim in her defeat of Malekith and forcing his army to retreat? Was she not the conquering queen, free to control and punish as she saw fit. That’s what he would have done.

“Just because your armada is gone, a just and convenient thing considering the use they were put to, does not mean you don’t have the technology anymore. You can build more,” said Sigyn, she sounded like this ought to have been common knowledge. “Besides, it’s much easier to give the Midgardians the knowledge than hand over the ship. They can build from knowledge far better than a single ship.”

Enfys nodded, clearly reeling from what she had said. Loki frowned at him, then considered that although Sigyn had taken away the armada, and ostensibly eradicated Malekith’s government, she had not demanded reparations, nor workers, nor… anything. She had simply put the aggressors down and left it at that. She had not even taken hostages to ensure the new government would behave.

Sigyn was now talking to Aetril and Berach,

“The Midgardians rely on fuel that comes from carbon, coal, oil, gas. They’ve managed to burn through most of it in just over a century-”

“Oh for goodness sake!” blurted Berach, sounding disbelieving. “Even Malekith knew that no planet could tolerate that without environmental collapse!”

“Which they are on the verge of,” said Sigyn, “While the Reset will undo some of the damage, perhaps offering them alternatives will be of benefit. Your solar powered systems could be a tempting offer.”

“Are they even aware of the damage?” asked Aetril with a frown.

“Some are,” said Sigyn with a nod. Loki wondered how she knew so much about the current situation on Midgard when neither had been there for over sixty years. “Others deny it’s even real.”

The ljosalfar, nature based as they were, both twitched as if ready to shake a foolish Midgardian or two.

“Is it really a good idea to gift these short lived creatures with so much technology?” asked Fullangr.

“They aren’t gifts, they’re bribes,” said Sigyn bluntly.

“Still…” Fullangr shrugged, and gave Farbauti a funny look, “A species messing with things they shouldn’t be… using something beyond their capabilities…”

“Just what are you implying?” growled Farbauti, half rising from her chair. Frost spread from where her hands rested on the table. Fullangr narrowed her eyes but did not reply, simply letting the words hang in the air. The tension in the room, always present, had thickened to impenetrable levels.

“Are we in agreement then?” asked Loki, just to break the silence. “We will use this… internet to contact the Midgardians and explain our needs?”

Sigyn nodded and there was a general murmur of assent. The meeting was concluded and they all rose up, Sigyn walking as fast as she could without hurrying for the door, as she always did. Loki half contemplated chasing after her, they had not spoken privately since the conversation in the bath, but Farbauti placed herself in Sigyn’s way first.

“I have something for you Queen Sigyn,” she said in a ringing voice, clearly meant to carry. Sigyn stared up at her, startled.

“O-oh?”

Farbauti held out a small white leather bag. Sigyn accepted it and opened it, taking out a finely wrought silver arm band.

“My son thought silver would complement your skin colour better than gold when he had it commissioned,” said Farbauti, smirking. “A token of his affection for you.”

Loki straightened up so fast his back clicked. No. No they couldn’t be trying to…

Sigyn had gone so pale that Loki thought she would faint. Instead she smiled up at Farbauti,

“It’s beautiful and the sentiment is much appreciated. I trust he is settling well back home?”

“Indeed, he lost too much weight on Asgard, but what can you expect, such a land is bound to malform a Jotun if they are forced to endure it too long.”

Loki wanted to take that stupid bangle and stomp on it. At least Sigyn had not put it on, she simply held it, staring up at the much larger woman.

“Well, give him my thanks.”

With that, she was gone. Farbauti looked satisfied, as if she had won some little victory and Loki felt a sense of dread. The very last thing he needed was to worry about Sigyn, broken and damaged as she was, being pressured by Jötunheim to marry Loki’s half-brother.

Not for the first time, Loki contemplated that his life was too ridiculous for an epic tale.


	24. Reality Ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Rape Content and Disturbing Imagery at the start.

_It was her wedding day._

_Sigyn could feel the boning of her bodice digging into her ribs. She had last worn this dress on Midgard, on a visit to the king of kings, who liked prostitutes. She pulled at it, trying to get out of it._

_Sif pushed her forward, into the great throne room of Asgard. Loki sat on the golden seat, watching her with a blank expression. He had two babies in his lap, and they were nursing from his breasts._

_The groom stood at the foot of the stairs. Sigyn could not see him, but her hand felt small in his. Loki waved his hand and a chain wrapped around her wrist. It felt as tight and heavy as her dress, which she continued to tug on. She tried to look around, tried to move, but was as frozen as a statue._

_Loki led the way through the glittering, golden palace that dripped with poison from the walls, and Sigyn knew her own people were lying on the ground outside, starved to death._

_The bedroom was full of people. Odin, Frigga, her parents, the Svana, the Ey, Yggdrasil. Thor was there, and Sif, and Berach and Aetril, Byleist too. Their faces swam around Sigyn and she still could not see the man she was chained to._

_There was no bed. Only a wooden horse stand, right in the middle of the crowd._

_No, Sigyn thought as she was brought to the stand and lay along it, a leg on either side of it, her chin resting on the other end. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the legs. Hands, too many hands, pulled her skirts up to her hips, exposing her to the room._

_No, Sigyn begged, but not a sound escaped her lips as she watched Loki walk around her, the two babes swinging from his breasts, unsupported but uncomplaining. Then Byleist passed by, and he was naked, his manhood brushing the ground with every step. Thor sauntered by, roaring with laughter. Yggdrasil yanked at her hair, ripping out fistfuls, as hands probed inside her and started to fight with each other to get in._

_No! Sigyn screamed silently, unable to move a muscle as one, two, three, four, countless hands breaching her body and clamouring for her womb. They were trying to steal her eggs!_

_Malekith stood before her and he was smirking, undoing his trousers and grabbing her head._

NO!

Sigyn jerked awake, drenched in cold sweat and trembling. The lingering touches of all those hands made her retch and she pulled at her pyjama trousers, pushing her hand between her legs. Feeling the now familiar smooth skin, no folds, no opening, no distracting nub, was a relief. No one could get inside her that way anymore. She was safe.

Cold relief washed over her and she sank back into the bed, panting softly. She passed her hand over her face and then rubbed at her smooth, bald head.

Why wouldn’t her hair grow back? It had never grown back after it had first been hacked away and she could find no cause. Admittedly she had not spoken to any healer about the issue, because she had avoided them in fear. If anyone discovered that she was without breasts and sex and could not change back… her council already thought poorly of her for the illusions that they had been answering to for months.

A headache pulsed behind her eye and Sigyn closed them. _Just hold on until the Reset and everything would be all right._ This was her mantra. If she could just keep herself together for that long, things would get better. When her plan worked, no one would try to take her throne or her life. She would be safe. At least until she had to let the council choose the man who would father children on her.

Sigyn still did not know what to do to ensure her safety there. So far she had crushed any and all attempts to discuss a marriage for her, because the very mention of it sent her heart racing and her stomach rebelling. When Farbauti had presented her with the arm band as a love token from Byleist, Sigyn had barely made it back to her bedroom before sinking into a panic attack. Such weakness had to be concealed from her enemies.

Especially Loki. If Loki knew how badly affected she was, he would use it to manipulate her. It was what he had done all through their relationship. He would pout and sulk until Sigyn gave in, make her wait on him and his feelings over her own, and she had obliged because her life had been so empty.

 _‘Are you sure about that?’_ asked a voice that sounded an awful lot like Ljúfvina’s. _‘Are you sure it was like that?’_

 _Yes_ , she replied, her fingertips itching to cast the illusion and bring her sister back. _Loki expected me to submit to his will, at the cost of my duties to Vanaheim._

 _‘You willingly went to him,’_ whispered the voice. _‘Because he made you happy.’_

 _Selfishly_ , she told herself, pinching the flesh of her hip.

 _‘Perhaps,’_ conceded the voice, _‘But genuine. What you felt for each other was real, even if it was selfish.’_

_Then it’s irrelevant._

_‘Not as much as you want it to be.’_

Sigyn pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and cursed her stupid heart. That stupid heart which leapt when Loki looked at her with his clear green eyes.

She remembered the way those eyes went dark with desire as he peeled her out of her clothes, his hands tender and strong. Those thin lips touching that spot behind her ear, his hard chest crushing her breasts as his arms tightened around her…

Stop it!

Sigyn shot out of bed and went to dress. She had a hundred things to do, why was she wasting time indulging herself? Her council would be meeting in a few hours and she needed to go over every detail she wanted to say so she could be sure no one would catch her out. It was the only way to be sure of no treachery. So long as she kept everything in her control, she would never be caught out again.

~*~

Despite being back in New York for several months, Thor was still unsettled. He had gone back to SHIELD, but found it much harder to go on missions than before. Where once he had been too eager, now he found himself hesitating. He was being sent to so many places he had explored on his travels, and it made him aware of the innocent people around them as they worked. It made him anxious in a way he could not remember feeling before.

Living with his friends had been good, except that Thor was not as taken with Sif’s lover Brock as she seemed to be. Hogun was never around to ask about him, and neither Volstagg nor Fandral seemed to pay him much mind. And Brock was always at the apartment!

Thor felt like he was waiting for something to happen, and he hated waiting.

Then, on a normal day, as he bumped his front door open with his hip, hands weighed down with groceries, everything changed.

“Thor! Thor come here!” howled Sif, sounding beside herself.

Thor dropped his bags and ran into the apartment. Sif, Brock, Fandral and Volstagg were all crowded around the television, staring in disbelief. Wordlessly, Sif pointed at the screen, and Thor looked… and stared.

Princess Sigyn of Vanaheim was on the television. For a moment Thor was sure he was mistaken, Sigyn’s hair was almost white, not this wild mass of colour, her eyes were kind, not these hard stones. Yet as she spoke, Thor knew it was indeed Sigyn, Loki’s wife, on the television.

“-not be alarmed by the fact that this is being seen across your world. We have no ill intentions.”

Brock’s phone rang, and he answered it.

“Yessir, we see it. What?” He looked at the others, “This is on every computer, every TV channel, it’s even on the radio!”

Thor barely heard him, he was completely fixated on Sigyn.

“I am Queen Sigyn of Vanaheim-”

“Queen?” barked Sif. Fandral shushed her frantically.

“-a realm many lightyears away from your own. With me are other rulers of other realms.”

The camera pulled away, revealing six other people standing with Sigyn. There, next to Sigyn, stood Loki. Thor drank his brother in, mouth hanging slightly open. Loki looked aged, but he stood tall and proud, with his horned helm gleaming in the light.

“He’s got Mjölnir,” hissed Sif, pointing. Indeed, hanging from Loki’s hip was Thor’s beloved hammer, stark silver against the gold and green of Loki’s garb. Thor noted that Loki had clearly had his armour remade in something a bit more like their father’s.

“King Loki of Asgard. Banríon Aetril of Alfheim. Enfys of the Dökkálfar. Helblindi King of Jötunheim. Imperial Majesty Surtr of Muspelheim. King Andarvi of the Dvergar.”

One by one the mentioned people gave some motion to indicate their identity. Thor frowned at the Jötnar king, studying the face and trying to recognise something of Laufey in him. However, that did not confuse him as much as the absence of Malekith. Where was he? For that matter, how was Sigyn queen?

“Your world is a part of a section of space that is known as Yggdrasil –a word I believe you know from you mythology. Once you were aware of the existence of these realms, but when we could no longer come to you, the memory of us fell into legend.

“Due to an unusual, natural phenomenon in subspace, our worlds are interconnected in a manner not normally found in the rest of the galaxy. Once a millennia, this results in the Convergence…”

Thor could not take in what was being said anymore. He was staring at Loki, who was silent next to Sigyn, who became less and less recognisable the longer she explained the Convergence and what she was offering to Midgard. Thor had watched those recordings of Loki and Sigyn more times than he cared to admit to himself, and he had come to learn more about both of them through those caught moments of amusement and mischief than he ever had before. He had listened to Sigyn talk to his brother, and realised she was intelligent, articulate, kind and loved Loki more than anything. He had also learned she could be absolutely filthy and enjoyed flustering Loki by being crass, she could be irritable with Loki when he was being stubborn, and she could be stubborn in turn.

Sigyn had never been more real to Thor than when he watched those recordings.

Yet, this was so unlike her it felt like he was watching someone else wearing Sigyn’s face. All the kindness had been drained out of her face, the glamour of her hair and clothes were less enticing and more intimidating. Thor did not know what to think of it.

As for Loki, he had never looked more like their father. Grim and aloof, stern and cold, he too looked like much of life’s pleasure’s had been sapped away.

What had happened?

“We will come to a pre-arranged location to meet with your selected representatives to open and begin negotiations so that we may all benefit from the upcoming Convergence. Until then.” The rulers of the realms dipped their chins very slightly and then the TV returned to the usual channel.

A second later, Thor and his friends’ phones all started to ring. Thor looked at the screen, then let the device slip from his numb fingers.

So this was how Loki chose to tell him he was alive?

~*~

“Do you think they will welcome us?”

The question was so quiet that Loki nearly missed it. He was the last one leaving the room they had used to broadcast their message to Midgard when Sigyn had spoken. He stopped and turned around. Sigyn looked… he wanted to say apprehensive, but it didn’t seem strong enough for how fragile she looked in that moment.

“The mortals?”

Sigyn nodded, rubbing at a painted marking on her hand. She looked much better than she had, but Loki was used to the presentation now, so he could see how heavy a mask it was.

“They have to welcome us,” she said quietly, scratching at the paint. Loki let the door close before him and stepped back into the room, though he kept his distance to be safe.

“Trust that they will,” he said, “Besides, my brother will have seen the message, he can assure them that it is genuine.”

“How do you know that Thor won’t tell them to bring out every weapon because of King Helblindi?” asked Sigyn, no bite to her words today, just fear.

“Because… because I believe in Thor’s ability to adapt,” said Loki slowly. Sigyn blinked and frowned at him, as if she had only just realised he was there. Loki wondered for a moment if she had ever called upon his image to offer counsel the way she had with Rasil and Ljúfvina. The idea was comforting.

“Thor doesn’t adapt, he… he…” Sigyn trailed off, looking too tired to finish the half attempt at a cruel comment.

“Thor finds his own way to fit in,” said Loki, “It was just his luck that he didn’t need to try hard on Asgard. Now the Bifröst is fixed, I’ve been able to check on him with the throne –he’s looking well, and seems well acclimatised to Midgard’s ways.”

“You must have been relieved,” said Sigyn, still scratching at her hand.

“I was. I tried not to think about Thor when the Bifröst was lost, because I’d only worry and… to be honest I couldn’t cope.”

Sigyn looked at him, her amber eyes, so dull these days, boring into him. Loki knew what she was dying to ask.

“Perhaps it is callous, but I found it easier not to think of Thor than you. I knew from my last checks that he was safe, but you… the last time I saw you…”

“You’d finally pulled your head out of your ass and realised you were in trouble,” said Sigyn flatly. Loki frowned, then realised that she meant the end of the Ostara festival, the last time they had been together before all hell had broken loose.

“Yes,” he said a little too heartily. “Yes, I was worried for you because of your concerns and then when I couldn’t get to you or see you… Malekith’s shields do the trick, scrying got me nowhere, despite trying every day.”

Sigyn’s eyes narrowed,

“You’re hiding something from me King Loki.”

The way she said his name cut him, no matter how hard he tried to strengthen himself. As if the pain compelled him to speak, he said in a rush,

“I saw you! I saw you when Yggdrasil had you. I was lost in subspace, dying, and my birth mother tried to convince me to let the whole universe burn, because if I went back to Asgard to save Fenrir and Jörmungandr I wouldn’t have the power or ability to go to you. Bergdís said that I ought to become a Dís like her, so I could save you, and bring you into the same state, along with the boys… but that would have condemned the rest of the universe and all within to death.”

“You chose Asgard then,” said Sigyn. She wasn’t blinking.

“I chose my sons, because I thought that’s what you would want me to do. Because I could not lose them again. Because I was sure I’d be able to find you, and I tried Sigyn! I really tried, but Asgard was trapped, I couldn’t find a way to Vanaheim, or anywhere, and Vanaheim was missing and… I’m sorry.”

It was oddly relieving to say those two words. Loki had wanted to say them for so long. He wanted her to really understand just how sorry he was for the choice he had made, even if he would make the same choice again. Sigyn did not react, she still would not blink. Loki feared she might collapse.

“Sigyn?”

Sigyn closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked at him.

“Well, you cannot be condemned for your choice.”

That was not an acceptance of his apology. Loki’s felt his shoulders sag,

“Sigyn, I… I wish with my whole being that I could have come here and helped you stop Malekith. I’d have walked my whole army through our mirror path to get to you-”

“Yes, well, that isn’t what happened,” she said, not unkindly, but with a sort of resignation. She looked exhausted. Loki wanted to ask her if she was sleeping at all, if she had someone to look after her, some servant or friend that could just… give her comfort. He held it back, Sigyn had not so much as acknowledged Ljúfvina and Rasil’s absence in front of him, and seemed determined to pretend that no conversation had occurred between them in any bath. Loki knew if he pushed her, she would close up completely. This conversation was the most honest they had had since the bath and she had initiated it.

Was this what it had been like for her all those years ago when he had been recovering from Angrboda? If it was anything close, he had not appreciated her patience enough.

The silence between them was awkward, but Sigyn made no attempt to escape it.

“Can I ask you something,” said Loki. Sigyn nodded, giving him a suspicious look. “Your hair. Why did you decide to colour it the way you did?” His eyes roamed over the blue, the white, the auburn and the brunette streaks. Sigyn reached up and touched the hair self-consciously.

“It… well, do you remember my father?”

“Yes.”

“And his hair colour?”

“It was blue –oh!” Loki looked back at the hair, and he recalled Njordr’s blue hair, Ljufvina’s red, the Svana’s brunette, and Skadi’s white that she had given her daughter. He felt his cheeks warm, “That was a stupid question, I should have realised.”

“No one seems to, they just think it’s a style choice.”

“It’s how you carry them all with you,” said Loki, finding the idea oddly charming.

“Something like that. I contemplated taking their real hair… but that seemed too much. A metaphorical version would have to do.”

Loki nodded, now feeling slightly discomforted, mostly from her calm tone. He rubbed his thumb into his palm, thinking about what he might say to keep the conversation going. Sigyn seemed lost in thought, toying with her hair.

“Sigyn?”

She looked at him, and Loki wanted to tell her how much he loved her again. Instead he said,

“I don’t know if I ever really told you how sorry I am for the people you lost. Your parents, the Svana, the Ey… I really am sorry.”

Sigyn looked startled, then she gave him a small smile,

“Do you remember how we used to talk about the freedom we’d have when none of them were able to control me?”

Loki nodded, remembering days when he had hated the lot of them for keeping Sigyn away from him. Sigyn sighed,

“I got my wish and in truth I’ve less freedom than ever. I was a stupid girl…”

“You never wanted it this way,” said Loki firmly.

“Yet I don’t know how else it would have been. My parents would never have abdicated, and while they ruled, I was subject to their directions. Their deaths were the only way I could step up…”

“This is not how it should have been. Yet it was, and you stepped up, truly you did. Whatever you might think of your choices, or your actions, you found a way to survive, to win.” Loki took a deep breath and added, “And I think much of that strength is something you have always possessed. You made choices for yourself, even if you had to do them in secret, you made choices to go out and explore, to see what other realms had to offer. You could have turned your mind off and followed your parents, become a mindless pawn, but you didn’t. You didn’t grow that courage during the invasion, you always had it.”

“Flattery,” said Sigyn averting her eyes, but her cheeks were darkening.

“Flattery can still be true,” said Loki firmly. “It takes courage to do what you’re doing right now, this Reset is a gamble, and while I’m certain you would call it desperation, it is more than that. You don’t think you’re brave Sigyn, but I can tell you you’re braver than I ever was.”

Sigyn scoffed and turned away.

“Honestly, have you nothing better to do?”

Loki sagged in defeat. He would get no further with her today.

“Your books, the ones you asked for,” he started.

“What of them?”

“I will give them back to you, but first… do you recall you gave me a coronation gift of hundreds of books?”

“Oh… Yes.”

“I’m having them all copied by the Royal Librarians, and when they’re done, I’ll return the originals to you. That way you get to reclaim more of your knowledge, but Asgard is not deprived of it. I hope you can be patient while they do their work.”

Sigyn raised an eyebrow. “All of the books?”

“Yes, all of them.”

“Including the ones I gave you in private?”

“Yes,” repeated Loki, confused by her amused tone.

“Including the books I gave you on sex?”

Loki’s eyes widened, he had forgotten about those ones. He had simply summoned every book he could find and sent them to the librarians for copying.

“Well… I suppose even a Librarian is due some entertainment,” he muttered his cheeks warming. Sigyn was clearly trying to repress a smile. Loki cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to pay Thor a visit tonight. I was hoping to do it before we announced ourselves to Midgard but between one thing and another-”

“You put it off because you’re afraid to face him,” said Sigyn. There was no condescension in her voice, just amusement. Loki opened his mouth to deny it, then sighed,

“Something like that.”

“We need him. If he has any influence in that world, we need him to support us. So you’d better go and talk to him.”

Loki nodded.

“Well… I should go. Good night Sigyn.”

“Good night Loki.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… yeah, Sigyn’s all levels of fucked up and needs serious help.   
> And yes, Thor and Loki will be having a conversation next chapter… and it’s turning out to be very long.


	25. A Nice Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After more than five years apart, Loki and Thor have a long over-due chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the huge delay but this chapter was hard to write, plus I got a new job, and was generally very preoccupied.

**Chapter 25 –A Nice Chat**

S.H.I.E.L.D. brought Thor and his friends in for information regarding the announcement that the rulers of other realms were coming to visit. Thor was struggling to focus as he kept thinking about Loki and how he had looked.

How could Loki not contact him before this announcement? Why had he not at least told Thor that he was alive?

“So this queen who did most of the talking isn’t supposed to be queen?” said Coulson, pushing through Thor’s distraction.

“She was princess when we left,” said Sif, her expression dark.

“It seems like she’s calling the shots,” said Steve, staring up at the frozen image of the seven people.

“Why would anyone, least of all the Jotun king or Queen Aetril, submit to Sigyn?” asked Sif.

“That’s a good question,” said Fandral, pacing behind Thor. “There is also the matter of the destruction of the Bifrost.”

Thor blinked and turned his chair to face Fandral,

“You’re not about to suggest Sigyn was behind it, are you?”

“We’ve already learned she’s far more cunning than we first thought,” said Fandral.

“No, we found out she loves Loki and did much to be close to him. That is all. You’re twisting too much to make it fit a ridiculous idea,” said Thor firmly.

“But what could it-” started Sif, only for Maria Hill to cut across her,

“Sir, there’s a man standing outside the base. He looks like Thor’s brother.”

Thor stood up so fast he knocked his chair over.

“What?”

“He looks like your brother,” said Maria, pointing at the screen, showing a man standing in front of the building. Dressed in a Midgardian suit with a scarf tossed elegantly about his neck, Loki had his hands in his pockets, staring and waiting.

Thor instinctively knew Loki was waiting for him. He strode forward and said,

“I will speak with him.”

“I’ll bring him up,” said Maria, turning around.

“No,” boomed Thor. Everyone turned to look at him. “I will go to him.”

No one objected as Thor pushed past them and headed for the door. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. What would he say? What would Loki say? What the hell were they going to say to each other after so much time and so many things that Thor knew now?

By the time Thor reached the exit of S.H.I.E.L.D’s on land headquarters, his hands were shaking so much he had to shove them into his pockets –and distinctly heard something tear in the left one. Great. He already felt oddly underdressed in his dirty jeans and simple shirt and t-shirt that he preferred on days of rest.

The door opened and across the small open courtyard between the boundary wall and the building stood Loki. He had stayed on the other side of the gate, his hands also in his pockets. To hide his own trembling fingers?

They locked eyes instantly. A million emotions rose up inside Thor like a volcano and he had to force himself to walk slowly and calmly across the paved ground. Loki didn’t move, he simply watched Thor approach without a flicker of emotion. The small barrier started to rise, and Thor ducked under it so he wouldn’t break his stride.

At last he was in arms reach of his brother, and stood still staring at him. Up close Loki looked older than ever, gaunt and shadowed in a way that Thor recognised from their father’s face, though it had never occurred to him that could have been from kingship. He had always just assumed it was how Odin looked.

Now he drank in Loki’s face, while struggling to think of what to say. Eventually he said,

“You could have transported inside.”

“I… I thought that might be rude,” said Loki slowly, and he looked faintly embarrassed. “Teleporting into someone’s secret base is… such a faux pas. Especially considering the message I was just a part of.”

“Ah,” said Thor, nodding thoughtfully. Silence fell between them, tense and awkward. Since Thor had started attending therapy, he had gone over and over the moment when he and Loki would be together with Doctor Langer and had worked tirelessly on what he wanted to say and what would be constructive. Yet now, he was completely blank on what to say. He wanted to tell Loki what he knew, what he felt, but seeing Loki so obviously changed made him pause.

Loki for his part kept looking around expectantly, and finally he said,

“I was expecting you to stride out here with your friends, weapons in hand.”

“They are inside, waiting for me, and why would we need weapons?” asked Thor with a frown. Loki shrugged,

“You never seemed to need a reason to bring them before.”

“Well… that was before.”

“Yes… I suppose it was.”

In unison they both looked down at Loki’s hip, as if imagining Mjölnir hanging from his belt. They lifted their eyes at the same time and Thor gave him a weak smile, which Loki returned with an even more uncomfortable one.

“So…” Loki started but he trailed off, a furrow forming between his dark brows. Then he let out a breathy laugh, “This is much harder than I imagined it would be.”

Thor nodded, clenching his hands in his pockets. Finally Loki said,

“I’m glad you’re well Thor. I mean, I knew you would be, you always find a way to strive wherever you are.”

Thor nodded again, bursting to speak but afraid to open his mouth. Loki’s smile faded and he looked nervous now. He pulled his hands from his pockets and started rubbing at his palm with his thumb.

“Well. I… I wanted to come here before but I just… I…”

Thor could not bear it anymore. He stepped forward and embraced his brother, not as he might once have done, looming large and crushing him by the shoulders, but with care and under Loki’s arms so they weren’t pinned. Loki stiffened and Thor quickly moved to pull away, but then Loki wrapped his arms around Thor and pulled him back.

“Brother…” gasped Thor, his voice trembling.

“… brother,” sighed Loki, relief in every letter. Thor inhaled the familiar scent of Loki’s hair and felt something inside him unclench.

“We have to talk,” he said softly. Loki nodded, his chin brushing Thor’s shoulder and they broke apart. “Come, there is a nice bakery not far from here, we can sit and talk.”

Loki’s eyes widened slightly as if surprised, but did not object as they started walking down the street.

~*~

As the Avengers watched Thor and Loki walk away on the screen, Tony Stark looked around,

“Are we just gonna let the king of an alien world walk off with his bro for tea and crumpets?”

“You got a better idea?” asked Fury, arching an eyebrow at him.

“… that’s so not my job.”

Fury grunted, then turned to Hill.

“Put Thor’s phone bug on speaker. I don’t want to miss a moment of this.”  

~*~

The bakery was warm and smelled of sugar, cinnamon and chocolate, with wafts of coffee drifting by with every order. Loki sat at a table in the corner, watching as his brother ordered and paid for several items. Thor looked much as he always had, on the surface at least. Still tall, still golden. Yet he was leaner than Loki remembered, and he wondered if it was a lack of exercise or power that had changed Thor’s shape. He was still one of the largest people in the room… if you discounted the massive overweight man and woman in the middle of the bakery.

Really, how could anyone reach those sort of proportions if they weren’t Volstagg? And he was as much muscle as fat.

“Here,” said Thor, distracting Loki from his bewildered staring as he set a tray on the table. “I wasn’t sure what you would favour so I got a few options. They’re all sweet, I know you prefer that.”

Loki helped him move the plates off the tray and then the two cups of foamy coffee. As he inhaled the smell of the coffee, he wondered when he had last had it. It must have been a century or so ago, in the Ottoman Empire.

“I ordered you a mocha, it’s a coffee drink mixed with chocolate, it is also very sweet.”

Loki’s lips twitched in amusement at Thor’s tone, and Thor must have noticed, because he added,

“Sweet things are still the best way to go with you, yes?”

“Oh indeed,” Loki nodded, picking up the cup and sipping it. It was indeed sweet and comforting. “Thank you.”

Thor nodded and sipped at his own cup, then toyed with a small cake as he sat hunched up. Loki picked one up for himself and bit into it, tasting fresh lemon. When he swallowed he set down the cake and said,

“So… here we are.”

“Yes. Here we are.”

“Apparently at a loss for words which is not something I think anyone on Asgard has ever seen of us.”

That made Thor chuckle and he sat back.

“I have gone over this moment in my head a thousand times and all my plans have fled.”

“Ah. Well… it’s nice that you planned it,” said Loki sincerely. To know that Thor had been thinking about him was a comfort he had not realised he wanted. Thor smiled at him,

“I planned much about our reunion. Some of it ill, most of it hopeful.”

“I assume by ill you mean punching me in the face for one reason or another.”

“The idea has been tempting at times. Usually in my low moments when I sought to blame you for everything because it was easier than blaming myself.”

Loki sighed and sipped from his coffee.

“In truth, I have felt those times as well. Especially when I wanted to take off my helm and slam it on your big head so you could deal with the minutiae of kingship.”

Thor gave a twisted grin,

“Being king is not as you imagined it?”

“It’s exactly how I imagined it, which is why I never, ever wanted it,” said Loki firmly. Thor raised an eyebrow,

“Never?”

Loki huffed,

“Oh fine, I did at times want the power and prestige that it offered, the respect and ability to make a difference it could give me. But I never really wanted to sit on the throne. I just wanted… I just wanted to be heard.”

“To be my equal?” asked Thor quietly. Loki jerked and met his brother’s clear blue gaze.

“Ah… yes. My letter.”

“Your letter.” Thor reached into a pocket in his jeans and pulled out what could only be that very letter. Loki eyed the tattered looking thing and wrinkled his nose,

“You haven’t been carrying it around since I sent it have you?”

“No. I grabbed it before heading to headquarters, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t read it so often I know it by heart.” Thor unfolded the letter and glanced down at the words Loki had written five years ago. “You said you wanted to be my equal. At the time I thought I had always seen you as such. Yet, I have been reflecting on my life a lot these past years, attending what is known as therapy, where you talk to someone about your feelings and they help you deal with them. Perhaps I didn’t treat you as my equal as I should have, but know it never meant I did not love you Loki. Nor did it mean I did not recognise your abilities.”

“They just weren’t as impressive as yours,” said Loki in a weary tone. He had expected that he and Thor would have to deal with the things they had left festering, but it didn’t mean he wanted to.

“That… is not what I meant by it,” said Thor in a calm voice and Loki stared at him in surprise. Thor gave him a small smile. “You had many unusual skills when we were growing up, and I was aware that you were smarter than me. I think I was jealous, so I tried to show I was just as good as you… and perhaps since my talents are more readily accepted in Asgard, it overshadowed you.”

That was so close to what Loki had told Sigyn only two hours ago he was unable to think of a reply. What had become of his big brother? His shock must have shown on his face because Thor chuckled and shrugged,

“I suppose my sessions with the doctor are working.”

Loki nodded, pushing his fingers through his hair and regarding Thor with some fascination. Thor shoved a large piece of cake into his mouth and chewed obnoxiously. Loki snorted, there he was! Thor swallowed and said,

“I didn’t ask before, because I thought you would tell me if necessary but… how are mother and father?”

“Mother’s well, she, ah, suffered a nasty spinal injury just under four years ago and it required a lot of Eir’s skills to recover her mobility –but she’s fine now!” he hastened to add when Thor half rose from his chair in alarm. “She’s fine, hale and strong as ever and… and missing you.”

Thor sank back down in his seat, paler now.

“Did the Bifröst do that?”

Loki hesitated. How much did he really want to say at this first meeting? Finally he settled for,

“Not exactly, but it happened around the same time.”

Thor nodded encouragingly, but Loki found it hard to say more. He just could not admit to Thor that he had faced a rebellion in his first year. That part of him that had always wanted Thor to be proud of him was desperate to keep him from knowing. The rest of him was resigned to the fact that it would eventually come up.

Thor sighed again,

“Do I have to ask to be told what happened to cause the Bifröst to be destroyed and Mjölnir to leave me in favour of you?”

“It’s not… I was going to tell you, but I…” Loki dragged his fingers through his hair again, despite knowing that it would only make his hair frizzy and show Thor how nervous he was. “Look, I know you want answers and I do want to give them, but it is a lot to tell and quite frankly it wasn’t much fun going through it once. So… just give me a minute.”

The problem was that the whole truth involved his involvement in Thor’s banishment, his own parentage, his marriage, his sons, his failures and his vengeance. Loki had no desire to see Thor’s anger with him when he explained his marriage to Sigyn, or the horror of his sons’ conception and birth and he definitely did not want Thor to know they were not related by blood.

Thor looked frustrated, and finally he growled,

“Is your hesitation to do with your secret marriage to Sigyn?”

Shock cut through Loki so hard he jumped to his feet to run away and only just managed to catch himself. He sank back down onto the seat with his mouth hanging open.

“H… how… how do you know?”

Thor fixed him with his most imperious look,

“You first.”

Damn him.

Loki let out a steadying breath and curled his hands around the coffee cup as if it might give him some support.

“Where to start? Alright, I suppose it all started when I was dying from magical overload and had to be put in stasis –no!” he added when Thor opened his mouth, “I’m starting there or we’ll be here forever going backwards. I was dying and had to be put in stasis, so Asgard had no king. While Eir, mother, Queen Aetril and Kvasir were trying to save my life, Sverrir was trying to keep the realm running without anyone knowing what had happened. I had removed the Lenðr Madr from their posts –no Thor, shut up and let me talk! –and things were rather difficult.

“What I know is that Tyr decided he should be king instead of me, so he went home to raise an army to take the capital. At the same time Hoder, who it turns out was a sleeper agent sent by Malekith –I said shut up! –stole special orbs I had been using to store excess seiðr to stay alive and used them to blow up the Bifröst. The blast damaged the city quite badly and the shattered glass shredded Queen Aetril’s wings so she was put out of commission.

“With Tyr and others marching on Idavoll, in desperation to save me and hopefully save Asgard, Kvasir stabbed me through the chest with Gungnir and kicked me into subspace to try and purge myself of the problem. While I was doing that, Gullveig, the witch we all thought was dead, came along and set Fenrir the wolf free from his chains so he could fulfil his supposed destiny of eating Odin. Also Hel sent Jörmungandr to try and stop that.

“After a meeting with a Dís and the Norns I was able to return to Asgard back to my normal self. I switched Gullveig and Odin so she was eaten instead, I fought Tyr in one on one combat and would have lost if Mjölnir had not turned up and managed to put down the rebellion. Mother’s injury was caused by Jörmungandr’s thrashing tail and I had to take Fenrir’s collar from him and put it on Odin to undo the terrible magic it had wrought which has weakened Odin considerably, so I guess to answer your earlier question, Odin is still asleep.”

Loki looked up to find Thor staring at him with an open mouth. He shrugged,

“Well, that was how my first year ended. How about yours?”

~*~

Thor was torn between hugging Loki and strangling him. That dismissive tone he finished the story with was so infuriatingly typical of Loki.

“My year ended with pieces of the Bifröst descending from the sky and Mjölnir abandoning me and I had no idea why any of that happened!”

“Well now you know, Asgard is fine, we lost some people, but it’s fine now. I… I fixed it.”

Thor groaned, because that was also so typical of Loki. Trying desperately to avoid the point of the argument by saying it was all dealt with now. He scrubbed at his face, trying to focus on his calm.

“Fine, but that doesn’t change how I feel about it.”

“Well I couldn’t do anything about it!” snapped Loki. “I had no way of reaching you.”

“But you could reach Vanaheim?”

“No! I couldn’t reach anyone! Asgard has spent the last four years cut off from everything! I knew no more about what happening on this realm than Vanaheim, Muspelheim or Jötunheim.” Loki’s hands were clenched into white knuckled fists. “I was stuck at home unable to go and help-”

Loki cut himself off and seemed to force his hands to relax. Thor watched the way his expression twitched at the edges and realised Loki was trying to get his emotions in check. He was used to Loki’s iron self-control, but he recognised this expression from many talks. He cursed his own lack of observance.

“What happened to Vanaheim that led to Sigyn being Queen?” he asked. He saw the way Loki’s eyes flashed and knew he had guessed well what Loki had just stopped himself saying.

“No, it’s your turn. Tell me how you figured it out?”

Thor sighed and folded his hands in his lap, to keep them from doing something stupid.

“I was depressed after losing Mjölnir, and I went to a friend’s home to seek advice. Steve is a man out of his time and he is a warrior. He did not think much of me at the time, but he is a good man and we talked. It was the first time I admitted exactly what had led me to be banished. Steve was… appalled and looking back I don’t blame him. What I did was disgraceful.”

Loki’s dark eyebrows shot up his high forehead, but he did not say anything. Thor sighed and continued,

“Anyway, I noticed he had an old collection of memories from his previous life, and to keep the peace I asked if I could look at it. I turned the page… and there you both were, with Steve.”

Loki frowned in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was an old article about you and Sigyn winning a dance contest, Steve gave you the prize, and it-”

“We’d married earlier that day,” said Loki softly and a soft, dreamy glaze passed over his eyes for a moment. Any anger that the memory had dredged up in Thor slipped away.

“Yes, so Steve recalled.”

“That was a human’s lifetime ago, how is this Steve still alive?”

“He was frozen in ice and was only revived just before I arrived.”

“… of course, why not?” snorted Loki, sitting back in the chair. “So you know. And yet you haven’t tried to kill me for ‘taking what’s yours’.”

“I wanted to at the time, but on reflection… not for the reason you think.”

Loki smirked and gestured casually for him to go on, clearly trying to look unperturbed. Thor licked his lips and said quietly,

“I was angry, and I did blame it on you… stealing the woman I assumed I would marry. But my talks with the doctor have forced me to look deeper. In truth, I did not care that you had picked Sigyn, I was angry that you had done this thing, something that was so important, without telling me. You never tell me anything Loki, never.”

“Not everything is about you Thor,” said Loki, staring into what was left of his coffee.

“I know that!” snarled Thor, slamming his fist onto the table and making people jump and look around. He gave a quick smile around at the curious eyes then looked at his brother who was staring at him sullenly. He looked more like the boy Thor remembered from so long ago. Huffing, Thor said in a calmer voice,

“I am not trying to imply that this is about me. Only that I wish that you had trusted me.”

“Why would I?” asked Loki irritably.

“Because I’m your brother!”

“So what? Would that have stopped you from telling everyone you knew about it? You can’t keep a secret to save your life!”

Thor clenched his fist, then forced himself to point an accusing finger at Loki,

“Name me one time, just one time in our lives as adult men, that I betrayed a secret of yours.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed furiously,

“I can name a hundred! You told father I’d taken a book out of the restricted section even when I begged you not to.”

“I said when we were adults!”

“But you started so young, like a prodigy,” sneered Loki.

“We were both spoiled boys, and then you-” Thor cut himself off because talking about Loki’s missing years was not going to end well. “Children are foolish, and we both did much to each other at that age, but I still loved you and you still came to me when you had nightmares. I never told anyone about those, did I?”

“… not that I ever heard.”

“Because I didn’t tell anyone,” said Thor firmly. “So there is no reason for you to treat me with the kind of suspicion you do.”

“You would have blabbed to someone! You would have decided you knew better, that we shouldn’t be together, or I was stealing your woman, or even get the bright idea that everything would be better if it was out in the open.”

“Wouldn’t it have been?” asked Thor. “You two could have been openly wed centuries ago, and I would have supported it.”

“Would you really?” asked Loki, eyes boring into him. “Think hard Thor. You would really have been accepting of not getting what you wanted? What you felt you deserved?”

“I never wanted Sigyn!” snapped Thor and when Loki simply raise his eyebrows in disbelief, he grumbled, “All right, fine, I did! But not the way you do.”

“That,” said Loki coldly, “Is obvious. How do you think it was for me listening to you and your cronies talk about the woman I love like she was a piece of meat –comparing her breasts and talking about what you’d like to do to her.”

“Loki if I’d had any idea how you felt-”

“You’d never have let me hear what you said. But you still would have talked about it.”

Thor dragged his fingers through his hair, and burst out,

“Why do you always pick a fight when I try to have a serious conversation with you?”

“You haven’t had a serious conversation in your life,” said Loki.

“No? All those talks with father about kingship-”

“And how quickly did you spit the face of all those lectures in one day?”

They glared at each other. A part of Thor was tempted to just give up on the topic, but that was not in his nature, especially not when he had worked so hard to get his head on straight about this.

“I won’t fight you Loki,” he said. “But I will have my say, and like you demanded my silence as you spoke, I will demand the same in turn.”

Loki’s scowl deepened, but he nodded.

“Fine! Just say what you so dearly need to say!”

~*~

Loki was so angry with himself. Why was it that no matter how much he had changed and grown since he had become king, just ten minutes with Thor made him feel like a sullen youth all over again? He just could not stop himself spitting his anger at Thor the way he had always wanted. How was it fair that after so long wishing and cajoling Thor to try and be the kind of man who deserved to be king, five years with mortals had instilled in him some form of patience?

Thor took a deep, slow breath and then he said,

“I don’t know what I did to you that made you stop trusting me. All I know is that I hated that it happened. I hated how you, mother and father had secrets from me, you all cut me out and I did not know what to do. So I turned to my friends for the connection I was not getting from my family. Was I too close to them? I don’t know, perhaps I was a bit free with them and forwent some of the distance a prince should have with his subjects, but the fact is if I had not had them I would have been alone. I certainly did not have you.”

Loki opened his mouth to give a furious retort, but Thor cut across him.

“You had your turn, this is mine. My memory of our childhood is one where we were very close, because we were the only ones of our status but when you disappeared and came home, nothing was the same. You, mother and father knew what had happened, and I didn’t. I couldn’t help, I just had to watch you waste away and mother hide her tears and father stay locked up in his study more than ever. I watched my family fall apart and I didn’t know why! And every attempt I made to help was rebuffed. You wouldn’t look me in the eye, and our parents would only say to leave you be and spend time with my friends. So I did.”

“Oh what a hard time you had!” sneered Loki, and this was far too much. He would not talk about something so old and buried –why Thor thought he had a right to was beyond him! “For once you had to deal with not being the focus of everyone’s attention. Considering your precious friends can’t go a few days without your glory to bask is, I suppose it’s no wonder you preferred them!”

“It wasn’t about preference!” snarled Thor, and his large hands were shaking against the table. “I wanted to help, but I didn’t even know what was wrong. You didn’t trust me.”

“Of course I didn’t!” Loki hissed. He could feel his face reddening with anger and panic. “The second you knew what had happened you’d have told everyone and I’d have been laughed out of Asgard.”

“No I wouldn’t! I would never have done anything to hurt you so badly –and I don’t understand why you would think I would.”

“You wouldn’t have cared once you knew, you’d have been ashamed of me!”

“Why would I-”

“Because father was!” Loki burst out, “Because mother was. Because I was! And if we were all ashamed of it, why would you not be? Why wouldn’t you decide I wasn’t worthy of being your brother once you knew, and once you thought that, you wouldn’t care who knew –tell everyone the disgraceful tale!”

People were staring now, and Loki needed to move. He stood up and walked out without looking back. He could hear Thor behind him, but he kept walking because if he stopped he would have to admit something he had avoided for centuries.

“Loki! Stop. I won’t let you run from this,” called Thor and he grabbed Loki’s arm, swinging him around and gripping his shoulder, “Enough! Loki, I don’t care what happened to you except that it hurt you. I don’t want to know so I can go and get revenge, I just want you to tell me so I can get my brother back!”

“You can’t!” Loki’s voice was barely more than a rasp. He was looking at the ground, feeling small and ashamed. “That stupid boy… he didn’t come back.”

“Loki, just say it,” begged Thor, clutching him like his life depended on it. “Please tell me.”

Loki closed his eyes and lowered his head even more.

“I… I was raped. By a woman. For five years.”

It was as if the whole world had gone silent. Loki’s whole body was tense and ready to snap at the first motion of Thor’s rejection. Because it would come. It had to come.

“Tell me she is dead,” said Thor quietly. Loki nodded, looking at the ground. Then Thor’s arms wrapped around him and held him close. “Then all I care about is if you’re well.”

…what?

“What are you talking about? That –that’s not –you don’t mean that!” Loki shoved Thor backwards, which was remarkably easy. Thor really was a mortal man.

“Of course I do Loki! What else would I want?”

“Don’t lie to me!” snarled Loki. “You don’t mean it! You’d hate me for being so pathetic to-”

“The only one who hates you for it is you,” said Thor and it was such a horribly accurate statement that Loki wanted to scream. Instead he grabbed the front of Thor’s shirt and pulled him so they were nose to nose.

“Where has all this thoughtfulness and compassion come from, hm? Because you and I both know that you’d never have said anything like this back then!”

“Perhaps, perhaps not, you never gave me a chance to prove either way-”

“Do you think your words exist in a vacuum? Do you think I’d forgotten how you’d bragged about all the women you had bedded, and how a man is no man until he’s gotten his cock wet by a mewling quim? You and your friends talking about how being reluctant or nervous was pathetic, that men always want sex-”

“We were boys!”

“So was I when Angrboda forced herself on me!” Loki jabbed his finger into Thor’s chest and was bitterly gratified when Thor winced in pain. “You’ve never understood how much words can affect people! You never appreciated that what you say might have consequences that cause pain to others. What you said mattered, to me, to others, and you can claim all you want that you’d have understood, but nothing you said or did implied anything of the kind.”

Thor looked anguish and frustrated and Loki was satisfied to see it. Let Thor have a taste of what Loki felt all that time ago.

“You’re right,” said Thor and once again Loki was startled. “You’re right Loki, I did say things that were foolish, and stupid. And I regret that I made you feel like you could not confide in me. Because I really did want to help, can you at least believe that?”

Loki swallowed against a tight, dry throat, but he nodded. He had known even then that Thor had wanted to help, but actually trusting that desire to not backfire had been too much after it seemed Frigga and Odin had dismissed him. Thor’s hand came up and rested on his neck, a gesture that felt more comforting than anything else about Thor had so far. Their brows bumped and Loki leaned into his big brother’s hold.

“I won’t make you tell me the whole tale, but I will ask you this. Did you have children with that woman?”

Where was Thor getting this information? It could not have come from a single picture! Loki wanted to wrench himself away and demand to know, because Thor knowing so much was akin to being flayed open. Loki felt exposed, he had been exposed over and over again since he had become king, all his secrets pulled into the light. Yet he found himself nodding against Thor’s brow.

“Three. Jörmungandr, Hel and Fenrir.”

Thor pulled away looking perplexed,

“You named them after...?”

Loki stared at him, he could almost see the pieces falling into place for Thor as his eyes widened.

“No… they actually are the… but how? They are not… they are…” Thor trailed off, clearly afraid to say the wrong thing. Loki gave a weak grin,

“They’re not wholly Aesir, and their mother was extremely magical, interested in experimentation. It steeped the children and affected them. Jörmungandr can look Aesir, or he can be a serpent. Fenrir the same as a wolf and Hel… well Hel’s the result of a temporal causality loop.”

Thor scowled at him,

“You know I don’t know what that means.”

“It means she existed at the beginning of the universe, which led it to being the way it is, which led to my birth, so I could sire her so she could exist.”

“… that makes no sense,” said Thor flatly, “However, I trust you’re correct. So… my niece is the queen of the dead? And my nephews are great beasts?”

“Hel is still queen, but the boys… no. Part of my deal with the Norns was that I would go and stop Gullveig from bringing about Ragnarok, but only if the boys were returned to me, as they were when I lost them. So Jörmungandr is only 8, though he still looks about 5, while Fenrir is nearly 4, but still appears to be a new born. They both can change their shape, but they aren’t lost in them now. I finally get to be a father to them.”

Thor nodded sombrely, his eyes searching Loki’s face. Loki held his gaze, daring Thor to say something against his boys, but then Thor beamed and clapped his hands on Loki’s shoulders, giving him a little shake.

“And I am an uncle! I cannot wait to meet them.” His smile dipped to something less confident, “I will get to meet them, won’t I?”

For some reason Loki had never really thought about this. Then again, his fixation on Sigyn and the boys meant that he pretty much ignored anyone else who might want to be a part of the boys’ lives. Still, Thor’s eager delight about them was too endearing.

“Of course, they’ll be excited to meet you. Well, Jörmungandr will be, Fenrir will probably just suck his own fist.”

“And Hel?”

“Ah… Hel is not really able to leave her realm for long, the rest of the realms hurt her, and she had to promise not to interfere in the affairs of Yggdrasil, so she may not be as easy to meet.”

“Well, one day then,” said Thor, smiling so broadly Loki could probably have counted all his teeth. The sounds of the world filtered back to him, and he realised they had been having this awful, painful conversation on a busy street. He looked around, and realised no one was paying them much attention. That felt strange. Thor nudged him,

“Come, I think we could do with some ice cream.”

“What flavours have they got?”

“Nothing like home, but some decent alternatives.”

~*~

Thor’s head was spinning as he and Loki picked their ice cream. He got tiramisu and Loki chose lemon sorbet.

“Lemons are sour,” said Thor in confusion.

“But mixed with sugar it’s delicious. Besides, I had this in the Ottoman Empire years ago, and while we have some fruits that are similar, I could never find something quite the same.”

Thor nodded, trying to accept this little revelation without negative emotions. The fact that Loki was admitting that he had been here before was significant. As much as Thor wanted to ask about other things, he decided to keep the conversation relatively light.

“How often did you come here?”

“Every century or so by their standards,” said Loki, half sculpting his sorbet in its paper cup with the tiny plastic spoon. “Of course, they change so fast that we were always trying to catch up.”

“They move fast even for me while I live among them. Did you know they choose their leader in this country every four years? What leader gets anything done in four years?”

“Ah, so their democracy is still going strong?” Loki sounded amused. “I was not sure it would last out the war that was going on last time I was here, when I met your friend.”

“That is called the Second World War today, and some of the things I have learned of it have disturbed me greatly,” said Thor, thinking of what he had learned about the Holocaust. He did not think he had ever seen such suffering. Then he had talked with Steve and gained a different perspective. “I have pondered if we have been any better when it comes to the Jötnar.”

Loki stiffened and turned acid green eyes to him, the expression somewhat mollified by the tiny pink spoon he was sucking on. Thor cleared his throat, feeling highly uncomfortable, almost ashamed as he said,

“I think about the state of Jötunheim as I saw it that day, and I wonder, if father had never taken the Casket would it be so… dilapidated? Would maybe there be a real peace between our two worlds because Jötunheim would not be so broken while Asgard towers so high?”

The pink spoon slipped from Loki’s mouth and he prodded Thor’s chest with it,

“Alright, that’s it! What exactly has happened to you that you suddenly know so much and think so deeply? Tell me right now!”

Thor paused, considering how to explain, then said,

“Come, we’re near a park, we can sit and talk there.”

“All right, but you’re not avoiding this topic Thor!”

It was on Thor’s lips to snap ‘look who’s talking!’ but that would have been counterproductive. He swallowed down his irritation and they walked to the park enjoying their ice-cream. They sat on the grass near a waterfall and Loki fixed Thor with his sharp eyes again.

“Explain. Now.”

Thor sucked in a deep breath and told Loki what he and SHIELD had found. Loki listened without a flicker of emotion as Thor confessed what he had done.

“So, you pried into my private life with Sigyn,” he stated, digging his pink spoon into his knee.

“I did,” said Thor quietly.

“I never saw those videos, they were Sigyn’s proof. Proof that we existed because we could not leave any marks or gifts with her, in case someone noticed. She had them locked safely away, and you stole them.”

Thor swallowed and looked at his lap,

“I have no excuse. I can only say that I don’t regret it.”

“Really now?”

“Yes, because I realised how much I had missed in your life, and how much you had hidden from me. It was like I got to know you all over again and I saw… I saw so much of the things I remembered but thought were gone. The happy brother I missed so much was still there, and Sigyn brought him out. That’s why I’m not sorry. I got to see that you could be happy.”

Loki’s face flushed with colour high in his cheeks. He looked torn between rage and something much more painful. Finally he croaked,

“She saved me. I freed myself from Angrboda’s grip, to save my children, but Sigyn’s the one who saved me.” His hand tightened around his spoon and it splintered into pink dust, “And I couldn’t save her!”

Thor leaned forward,

“Tell me what happened that led to Sigyn being queen.”

Loki took a deep breath, then started to talk. It all came out in a rush, and not always in the right order, but Thor did not interrupt Loki. He listened with horror to the descriptions of Malekith’s crimes, the devastation of Vanaheim, and then with awe as Loki described how Sigyn had beaten him.

“I could ask for no one better to be my sister in law,” he said when Loki fell quiet. Loki snorted loudly,

“Yes well, you might have to ask because Sigyn wants nothing to do with me.”

“What?” Thor stared at him in disbelief.

“She’s decided it was loving me that led to Malekith’s invasion, she thinks if she had been more focused on her duties than on me, none of it would have happened.”

Thor shook his head,

“But that makes no sense. It was her parents’ job to keep Vanaheim safe.”

“I know, but she’s not willing to hear it. If she can blame herself, it makes her feel some sort of control –otherwise everyone and everything she lost happened because of random events that turned her into a pawn.” Loki heaved a deep sigh and swiped at his knee to remove the pink dust. “I’ve been trying to give her time and show her I still love and support her, but frankly I don’t know what is best –and it’s frustrating because she knew how to reach me.”

“Hmmm…” Thor rubbed at his chin, staring out at the perfectly kept grass. “It sounds to me like Sigyn could do with the benefit of a therapist, like I did.”

“A mind healer? I can already guess how Sigyn would react.”

“She would think she doesn’t need one?”

“She would not dare be so personal with anyone anymore. She would be afraid it would be used against her. She might want someone to talk to, she used to try and convince me to see one just after Angrboda, but she would never trust someone with that knowledge.”

“But surely the therapists on Vanaheim would have the same vows of silence that they take on Earth?”

“Yes, but it’s an honour system, if they broke it the punishment would come too late. Even if you could find a mind healer on Vanaheim now, and for all we know they’re all dead, Sigyn’s fear of betrayal would be too much.”

“Well, what if I found her one here?”

Loki raised his eyebrows,

“You’d do that?”

“Of course! Sigyn’s my friend, and she looked after you when I failed. I would be happy to help her,” said Thor sincerely. Loki’s expression went slack, then reformed into something much softer.

“Thank you.”

Thor smiled and reached out, resting his hand on the back of Loki’s neck. Loki pressed into the hold and returned the smile. Then he sighed again,

“Sigyn wouldn’t trust a human any more than a Vanir. She won’t trust anyone. I doubt she even trusts her own council. Her two confidants are dead, she has no friends or family, she’s completely isolated and she’s convinced herself that’s how she must stay to be a good queen.”

“What of you? I cannot believe she does not still love you in some way.”

Loki was quiet, tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear, then spoke in a low voice,

“I know that she still loves me, I saw that part of her when Lj… when there was a mishap with Sigyn’s magic. But I’m afraid that it’s been so damaged by what’s been done to her, that even if we were to marry for an alliance she would never let herself be with me the way we were before. It would be showing weakness.”

Thor frowned,

“But even father had his council, and his old friends and mother to rely on. No monarch can last alone, especially in bad times. When does she relax?”

“She doesn’t,” sighed Loki, rubbing at his forehead in frustration. “I don’t know what to do!”

Thor sighed,

“I wish I could help, I have seen how good you two are together, it would be a terrible shame if that was all gone.”

“No argument from me,” Loki muttered, looking around at the park. “We came here after we got married. It was horrible! Filthy, unkempt, awful.”

“Yes Steve has told me much the same. He was delighted by how the people of the city transformed it into such a beautiful place.”

“Idavoll could use more spaces like this,” said Loki thoughtfully. “It would be nice to have more green among the gold.”

Thor’s stomach did a funny flip and he could not repress his frown.

“Have you… made many changes to the city?” he asked as calmly and curiously as he could. Loki shrugged,

“Sort of. I might have broken the Hólmgangustadr when I fell from subspace.”

“Broken the –you mean during Tyr’s rebellion?”

“Oh no that was the second time I ended up there, the first time I went to see Fenrir and he bit my arm off –I grew it back!” Loki added defensively when he saw Thor’s expression. “I just built my own Casket of Primal Fire in the process –look, I needed to rebuild the Hólmgangustadr afterwards so I did, and I renamed it Thorstaðr because the people asked me to.”

“Really?”

“Mm, I also built a new library, but most of the work has been repair work after the Bifröst destruction. The damage was extensive.”

“What happened to Tyr?” asked Thor quietly. He had always liked Tyr, he was Sif’s favourite uncle. Yet if Loki had stopped his rebellion, it would not have ended well for Tyr.

“I put him on trial for treason. We had fought, one on one for the right to rule, and I’d have lost if Mjölnir had not appeared. I wanted to kill him there and then, I had Mjölnir raised to strike… but I could hear Jörmungandr calling me. It was the first time I’d heard his voice in a thousand years, and I could not kill someone in front of him. He saw me kill his mother to escape her and I lost him because of it. I could not risk it again. So I brought Tyr to trial. I found him guilty and executed him by crushing him under the rubble of the city he had invaded.”

A long silence fell. Thor felt faintly sick. Loki glared at him as if daring him to criticise his actions, but Thor would never do so. For whatever he had learned on Midgard, he was still a prince of Asgard and as much as he had liked Tyr, the man had committed treason and tried to kill Loki. He deserved his fate.

“What else could you have done with a traitor?” he asked in a low rumble. Loki’s eyes widened, and his shoulder’s relaxed slightly. “What of the others? Did you execute many?”

“Only Tyr, the others I more or less enthralled, they will work off their crimes.”

Thor frowned but nodded. Loki lifted his chin defiantly,

“You disapprove.”

“No. They gave oaths that they broke. They deserve their punishment,” said Thor honestly, even though his warrior instincts chafed at the idea of such humiliation. “It sounds like you’ve had quite a time of it.”

Loki let out a bark of laughter that was completely mirthless.

“That is an understatement. But it does sound like you’ve been busy too.”

Thor shrugged,

“I was sent here to learn to be a better man, I have no idea what that actually means, but I thought exploring this world and seeing it through your eyes might help me.”

“How?”

Thor shrugged,

“You and I are very different men, there’s no point pretending otherwise, and you were always pestering me about being more attentive to my duties. You were always the better prince.”

“Not to our people,” sighed Loki.

“Well, I think perhaps that I might appeal to their ideals, you actually cared about their well-being on a… more mundane level. The level nobles don’t have to worry about.”

“Thanks,” muttered Loki.

“I mean it Loki, I’ve seen so many places here where people are really suffering and I’ve realised that true kingship is about making sure people like that are protected. It isn’t about being glorified, it’s about taking care of the people. That’s why Odin is the AllFather. He is a father, and a father cares for his children, raises them up to be strong and thriving, not so they can sing his praises.”

Loki stared at him, then smacked him upside the head.

“Really? All it took was five years among humans for you to realise what Odin and I and every one on Asgard has been trying to teach you since you were a boy?”

“No!” snapped Thor, grabbing his brother’s arm and shaking it. “It took losing all of you to realise how much I had taken for granted.”

Loki pulled his arm free, made a circle with his fingers like he wanted to strangle Thor, then threw himself backwards to lie on the grass.

“Ugh! I’m too glad it’s sunk in to be angry.”

Thor grunted, rolling his eyes at him. They were quiet for a while again, until Thor said quietly,

“So what now?”

“Hmm?”

“I said, what now? Can I come home?” The words were tentative, hopeful and scared at the same time. Loki did not reply for a moment, then he sat up and folded his legs.

“Thor, I want you home. I do. I’m not sure where we’d stand with the succession, who would be king or anything like that but… I want you home.”

“So?” asked Thor hopefully. Loki groaned and dragged his hands over his face,

“Look, the spell that was used to make you mortal is still in effect and I’m not sure how to undo it. I haven’t been able to come here and examine you, but I believe that Mjölnir held the key. When she was taken by the Norns to save my life, it left the spell without a key and… and I have no idea how to undo it.”

“But even if I’m mortal, surely I can come home!”

“Perhaps, no human has ever gone to Asgard, so I don’t know how safe it would be for you. Moreover… it’s not just you Thor. What about your friends?”

“What about them?”

“Thor, they committed treason! They went against my orders, and abandoned their posts to join you, an exiled prince. No matter what way you look at it, they broke the law and their oaths!”

“But… they said Heimdall told them to go.”

“So? I had given them a direct command to stay in Asgard, and they just left. They valued their friendship with you more than their loyalty to Asgard and that cannot be overlooked. If they come back I will have to put them on trial and quite honestly I won’t feel that cut up about it.”

“They’re our friends!” cried Thor in horror.

“They are your friends. I have my own friends, thank you, and mine stood at my side when Tyr rebelled. I wouldn’t have survived my kingship this long without them,” said Loki bitingly.

“But still, we’ve been through so much together, how can you turn your back on-”

“They turned their backs on me!” snarled Loki. “They couldn’t stomach even one week with me as their king and took the first chance they could to desert me.”

“They thought you’d let the Frost Giants into the Vault!” Thor argued, though he had never actually believed the accusation.

“So what if I did!” shouted Loki, throwing his hands out. “The only reason I did it is because you weren’t ready to be king. You would have sent us to war for your own glory within a month! I had to protect Asgard from your brainless rule!”

There was a moment where Thor’s brain seemed to have stopped working, a rushing sound in his ears, while Loki’s eyes widened as he realised what he had said.

Then Thor let out a roar and lunged at him with his fists flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it would go any other way.


	26. A Truce

It was over in a moment.

Loki had time and strength enough to catch Thor as he flew at him, flip him onto his back and pin him to the ground with minimal effort. Thor roared in fury beneath him, looking exactly like the berserker Loki had feared sitting on the throne. The kind he had feared facing if the truth ever came out about Angrboda.

The effect was rather mitigated by how easy it was to keep him down.

“You son of a-”

“Careful, that’s your mother you’re about to insult,” he drawled, his heart racing. He had not meant to blurt out the truth like that, but the thought of those friends of Thor’s had wiped everything else from his mind. How could Thor ask him to be merciful to them when they had just dropped everything and walked away from Loki because they just could not tolerate him having power? “I’ll let you up if you calm down.”

“You’re the reason I’m here! You’re the reason I’ve been stuck here for years with no idea what’s going on at home!” Thor bellowed.

“No. You’re the reason you’re here! You could have kept your head, listened to Odin and me when we told you to leave it alone, but no! You had to storm the enemy keep like you used to pretend when we were boys and get the Jötnar on their knees for the sake of your own pride.”

“You manipulated me!”

“What kind of king is so easily manipulated?” Loki snapped, giving Thor a little shake. “What idiot thinks he can do what he likes because he is king? Don’t you get it, you are never so trapped as when you are king and the sooner you learn that lesson the sooner you’ll be able to come home and I can focus on what matters to me!”

Thor stopped struggling, but he glared up at Loki with rage that usually promised a storm. In fact Loki noticed there seemed to be more clouds than before. Interesting. Loki glared back, then sighed,

“Look, you can be angry with me, but you just said that you don’t regret learning the truth about Sigyn and I. If you had learnt it any other way do you really think you would have come to appreciate it the way you have? Do you think you’d have the perspective you do now?”

“That doesn’t justify what you did!”

“I did it for you, you idiot!” snapped Loki, giving Thor another shake. “I wanted to protect Asgard and buy you more time to be the man I knew you could be. I didn’t want the realm to hate you the way I thought it hated me. I didn’t want things to turn out the way they did, I didn’t want this position!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Believe what you want!” Loki shoved himself away from Thor, who winced in pain. Loki got to his feet and pointed at Thor, “I did the only thing I could think of to protect everyone. Because neither you, nor Odin, was willing to listen to me. And it cost me just as much as it cost you!”

“You got your sons back!”

“I lost my wife! I lost my brother, practically lost my father, nearly lost my mother! I lost my privacy, my free time, my ability to make choices that don’t have the weight of Asgard on the back of my neck.”

“I lost my home, any sense of who I was, who I was meant to be.”

“And you got to figure out you don’t have to tie everything about you into being a prince! You gained freedom, you gained the ability to think for yourself and you actually took it,” Loki snarled. “You got more freedom than you have ever had in your life and look at what you’ve done! You actually travelled a realm and looked at it! You’ve seen things and learned things that you would never have done without this.”

“You had no right to make that decision for me! You manipulated me-”

“Would you have listened to me? Heard my concerns?”

“You never gave me a chance. You never give me a chance! You just decide what I’ll do and interfere. How am I meant to learn if you constantly stand in my way?”

“You’ve had a million chances and you wasted them all!” snapped Loki. Thor got to his feet, panting like he had run miles. He looked so angry, so devastated, that it made Loki feel broken. He pushed his hair back with both hands, then dropped them at his sides. “I never wanted this. I never wanted you gone. I just… I just needed to do something. Odin wouldn’t listen, you wouldn’t listen… no one listened to me! So maybe I was selfish, maybe I was reckless, but… you want me to regret what I did and I cannot. I will not. If you hadn’t fallen for my trick, if I wasn’t made king… I’d never have gotten my sons back.”

He spread his arms slightly, feeling exhausted,

“I wish I could regret the pain I caused you, but I won’t, because I won’t regret my sons.”

Thor’s expression twisted,

“You think that will make me forgive you?”

“No. I don’t even know if I want your forgiveness, because if you have changed, if you finally understand consequences, the meaning of real kingship, if you will finally use your brain –then I have no reason to regret what I did. I can only hope that one day we’ll be able to move past it, because I don’t want us to be at odds anymore.”

“You’re not exactly making a good case for it! You still see me as a fool, you always have.”

“So prove me wrong! I beg you, prove me wrong. Be the person I know you can be. The brother I only ever saw on your birthday.”

Thor’s mouth snapped shut and he stared at him. Loki stared back, tempted beyond reason to say he was sorry, but he was speaking the truth. He would not regret what he had gained from this mess, and if it really had changed Thor the way it seemed to have, he could not even regret the pain he had caused him.

Thor seemed lost for words, he turned away and sank back down on the grass, his face buried in his hands. Loki, not used to such behaviour, dithered on the spot and looked around. People were staring at them, and he could see what appeared to be a guard watching with narrowed eyes. He smiled and waved awkwardly, then dropped to his knees beside his brother.

“Thor…”

“How did we get here?” asked Thor miserably. “I just want to go home, I want things to go back to what they were when we were boys.”

“Well, that’s never going to happen,” said Loki speaking the same tone he used on Jörmungandr when he was upset. “Going back would mean undoing everything that we’ve been through –good and bad.”

Thor snorted and looked at him,

“So what now?”

Loki sighed and shifted from his knees to his backside,

“Well… where do you want to go? Think before you answer. What do you want out of your life Thor?”

Thor stared out at the people milling about the park, his bright blue eyes glassy with what was clearly a warning for tears. Loki prayed with all his might they would not fall. A crying Thor was not something he would ever be equipped to deal with.

Finally, Thor said quietly,

“I want to go home. I want to feel like I have a purpose, but… I don’t know if that’s being king anymore.”

Well, Loki thought to himself, he did ask Thor what he wanted. The fact that it was not what Loki himself wanted was beside the point, even if it was a terrifying idea.

“I want you and I to find some way to be brothers again! Or for the first time if you really think we’ve never been so. I want us to be close, to be able to trust each other. I want to be a good uncle to my nephews, my niece, to any more children you may have. I want to be a brother to your wife too, I want to support her as she goes through this terrible time.”

Loki could not suppress his smile. This was the good side of Thor, the side he had lost sight of because he had become fixated on Thor’s flaws. Flaws that he had felt should have been as recognised as Loki’s own, not ignored while his were enhanced.

“You wish us to be brothers again? I would like that.”

Thor threw out an arm and yanked Loki close, burying his face in Loki’s dark hair, clinging on like he was a teddy bear. Loki grunted and gripped under Thor’s shoulder to keep his balance.

“My brother, mine,” Thor murmured possessively. According to Frigga, it was this very thing Thor had said over and over when he had been a toddler and Loki had been a baby. The smell of ozone flooded Loki’s nose and he pressed closer, feeling small and safe in his brother’s grip. Yet something was niggling at him.

It was a sense of guilt, but not about the ruining of Thor’s coronation and his banishment. No this was guilt over something he could not control.

When did I start feeling so compulsively honest, he wondered irritably.

It would be the stupidest thing he could do to tell Thor the truth about his bloodline. Stupider than admitting what Angrboda had done to him, stupider than revealing his hand in Thor’s banishment. Yet… some strange part of himself, the noble part of him he supposed, wanted to ensure that if they were really going to try to be brothers Thor knew what that meant now.

“Thor…” he murmured, trying to squirm free, but Thor seemed to have decided he would cope with the situation by hugging Loki to death. He huffed and let him hold on while people ambled around and threw them odd looks. It was uncomfortable in many ways. Finally, Loki reached down and prodded Thor’s ribs with a finger. Predictably, Thor let him go with a squawk.

“Loki!”

“Well it was getting awkward!” Loki dusted himself down and sat down again. “Thor…”

“What?” asked Thor, sounding exhausted. Loki looked into his brother’s face, taking in the lines he knew had not been there five years ago. Time was wearing on Thor in a way it never would were he Asgardian. Loki considered his options, then said,

“Would you like me to bring my sons to visit you before the official meeting?”

Thor blinked and looked around at him.

“Are you attempting to bribe me into forgiving you for spoiling my coronation with your sons?”

Loki arched an eyebrow,

“Is it working?”

Thor considered him, a strange sensation since Loki could not remember the last time Thor considered anything.

“Well?” he prompted.

“This is not over,” said Thor, jabbing him in the chest.

“No, I didn’t expect it to be,” said Loki, “It will take time for us to figure out our… equilibrium, but if you’re serious about being a good uncle to my sons, I will bring them to meet you. So far they only have myself and Frigga for family. It will be good for Jörmungandr to meet you, he’s heard a lot of things, most of them good.”

“Most?”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t been telling him anything terrible, just some of the stories from when we were his age.”

Thor looked slightly mollified, but he still seemed unhappy. Loki sighed.

“Maybe I should go, let us both take stock.” He started to stand, but Thor grabbed him by the middle and hauled him backwards, holding him tucked against his side, “Erk! Thor-”

“You will stay where you are until I let you go,” said Thor with all the stubbornness of his boyhood self. “I need to think, but you have too often slipped from my grasp before I can properly understand and communicate with you. So you will stay put.”

“This is ridiculous,” muttered Loki, feeling small and silly, trapped against his possessive older brother as Thor scowled out at the park. It was like being Jörmungandr’s age again, when Thor had dragged him everywhere.

Just recalling those days, and being in such a familiar hold, caused a surge of emotion to well up in Loki and he was mortified to realise he was feeling rather choked up. He tried to ignore it by resting his head on Thor’s shoulder and closing his eyes. It would be so easy to just fall asleep right now…

Loki woke with a start to find it was dusk, and he had somehow moved so he was resting his head in Thor’s lap. Thor was playing with Loki’s hair absently.

“What time –how long have I been asleep?” asked Loki, too heavy and comfy to move just yet.

“Hours,” said Thor, “You must have needed the rest, I have never known you to be so unguarded with me.”

Loki yawned widely,

“Oh, well, guess that’s what a day of secret purging will do for you,” he said off-handedly, but Thor hummed thoughtfully.

“Even on my birthday celebrations you would never be like this. Why could we not get here before?”

“You were a full on oaf and I was protecting myself,” said Loki with a smirk. Thor glared at him.

“You’re not half as funny as you think you are.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” Loki stretched and sat up, grimacing as he wiped his mouth where some drool had dried. “I really should go soon. Have you gathered your thoughts?”

“Somewhat.” Thor twisted to face Loki, his expression tense and serious. “I recognise that my memory of our brotherhood has been… less than realistic, and I’m sorry if my behaviour made you feel as if you could not confide in me, because all I wanted was for you to trust me. But you need to admit that you played your part in this issue. You took unintentional slights and made them into something more malicious, used it to wrap yourself in a self-pitying cocoon so you avoid dealing with me in a direct way.”

Loki’s mouth flew open in indignation, but Thor spoke over him.

“You could have tried, Loki. You could have tried harder, but you chose to assume the worst of me and ran away. You ran away with Sigyn and played at being adults.”

“We weren’t playing!” snapped Loki. “It’s bad enough Sigyn says that, I know she doesn’t mean it. But you don’t get to judge me for how I fell in love.”

“I would never judge you for falling in love. I used to wonder if that was what you needed, if maybe having a lover, a wife, would give you the comfort we could not. But the way you two went about it-”

“Stop,” hissed Loki. “I’m so sick of everyone telling me off for that like I didn’t understand what I was doing. As if we did it for amusement. We didn’t!”

Thor growled and shook his head,

“My point is, you need to admit that you’ve hurt me just as much as I hurt you. If you don’t, we’ll never move past this.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, then said through gritted teeth,

“Fine! I admit that I could have been more willing to trust you –but if Odin and mother rejected me for it, why wouldn’t you?”

“No excuses Loki!”

“Fine!” Loki snapped again. “I admit that I hurt you. I knew I was at the time, but it was so much easier to resent you –because then I wouldn’t have to fear your rejection. That’s not an excuse, it’s an explanation, you keep asking for them.”  

Thor nodded,

“I do, because you owe me them. I in turn owed you a more thoughtful brother. I will endeavour to give you that, if you will endeavour not to cut me out again. I want to feel like I am a part of our family, bound by blood and by love. I don’t want to stand on the outside looking in at misery.”

“And here I thought I was the outsider looking in at a perfect family that would have been better off without it’s cuckoo,” said Loki wearily. Thor looked aghast.

“Never! You might drive me mad Loki, you might infuriate me more than anyone else in the Nine Realms, but I would never, ever wish you gone.”

Loki knew he was going to hug him again, but he did not try to avoid it. They wrapped their arms around each other and stood there for a long moment. Finally, Loki said,

“I’m not sure kings should be so cuddly.”

“Perhaps if our father had been we would not be where we stand,” said Thor in a low voice. Loki’s eyes widened at this jab at Odin. He never thought he would hear such a thing. He tightened his grip on the back of Thor’s shirt and then pulled away.

“I really need to go,” he said, half desperate to get away and half wishing he could stay. Thor nodded, looking as tired as he felt.

“When will you come back with your sons?”

“I’m not sure… but soon. I don’t have a lot of free time, and I am technically corresponding with a criminal –you’re banished for a crime you committed. It’s somewhat… awkward.”

“Oh… of course.”

“I’ll send you a message in a few days,” said Loki quickly. Thor gave him a weak smile and nodded. Loki mirrored the nod, then stepped back and called Heimdall with seiðr to return him to Asgard. He tried to give Thor a reassuring smile as he was swept up in the gentle pull of the Bifröst.

**~*~**

Thor watched as Loki disappeared in a soft swirl of colours, so unlike what he remembered of the Bifröst and his eyes began to burn as he tried to hold onto the smile Loki had left him with. His head was aching and he felt almost congested with the emotions he had experienced today. He had held his brother in his arms again. He had two nephews and Loki was going to bring them to meet him.

He walked back to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters with his head in a daze. So many secrets had been revealed today, so many wounds opened but also maybe cleaned so they could heal properly? A

As Thor walked into the headquarters, knowing his friends would have been waiting for him there, he realised he would have to tell Sif that her favourite uncle, the man she had emulated all her life, was dead. Worse, that Loki had had him executed for treason. As far as Thor was concerned Tyr deserved his fate, he had rebelled against Loki, but he doubted Sif would see it that way.

He entered the central room, where Fury turned an annoyed eye to him.

“You left your phone behind,” he said quietly, holding it out, “What if you needed our help?”

“I didn’t want you using your technology to listen to my private conversation with my brother,” said Thor with a shrug. “And it was private. You had no right to expect me to let you listen in the way you did while I was travelling.”

There was an awkward silence as Thor took the phone from Fury and looked at Sif.

“We must speak my friend.”

Sif clearly read something in his face, because she paled and squeezed Rumlow’s hand. Thor saw him wince slightly.

Damn Loki for leaving him to tell her this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel this argument went around in circles a bit, but I think that's more realistic because ultimately these two do love each other, but they have managed to hurt each other in so many ways. So hopefully you weren't too bored.


	27. Untie the Knots

The days flew by and Loki barely had the brain space to recall his promise to Thor. He had already mentioned it to Jörmungandr, who seemed excited at the prospect of meeting his uncle. The downside to it was Jörmungandr now asked Loki about it whenever they were together. It was starting to make Loki feel irrationally jealous.

Preparations for the Convergence and the official meeting with Midgard’s leaders were taking up a lot of Loki’s time. Sigyn had, somehow, acquired information about Midgard’s ruling policies, including the history of the United Nations and its members, as well as the states that were currently unrecognised.

How did anyone get anything useful done on that planet?

The council meetings were fixated on Asgard’s relationship with the other realms. Loki was still struggling to determine how he wanted to be viewed. He did not want Asgard to stop being the strong, powerful realm it was, but he was aware that too much of that would turn the other realms against him. It was why Sigyn was able to attract their attention when really Vanaheim had nothing to offer other than a distant future and her own current charms.  

Speaking of which, Sigyn was angry with Loki when he admitted he had barely mentioned Thor supporting their cause with Midgard. Her anger was so bad that Loki decided not to tell her that Thor knew about them and had invaded their privacy by stealing her things. He had a feeling Sigyn had completely forgotten about the recordings and would not want them back anyway.

So it was 16 days before Loki could organise himself and the boys to go and visit Thor. They had sent letters to confirm locations, intentions and times. Thor had warned Loki that Sif wanted his head for Tyr’s death, but that was nothing new. Loki in turn had ordered Thor to ban his comrades from being at the meeting. Thor had been banished to learn maturity, his friends had just abandoned their posts for their loyalty to a man and not their realm.

Thor had protested, until Loki told him that it was Frigga’s wish and Loki would not contradict her. Frigga was not happy with Thor’s friends for abandoning Loki, something that quite surprised Loki. But then again, Frigga had been taking great pains to show that she did not favour one son over the other, and Loki knew she was desperate to see Thor.

Perhaps Frigga now understood the pain Loki had felt when Jörmungandr and Fenrir had been taken from him by someone he had trusted.

They had, however, agreed that Thor could bring his friend (lover?) Jane Foster and some of his other human friends if he wished.

The day arrived and Loki took care to dress as both king and brother. There was no point in pretending that Loki would not be king for a good while yet, and if they were going to meet Midgardians, he needed to dress appropriately. Jörmungandr was supposed to be dressed in his own princely outfit, but when he insisted on wearing what he liked, Loki had relented because it was not supposed to be too formal. Besides, he liked Jörmungandr’s bright, clashing colour style. It made him look like the boy he was, and not a miniature version of Loki.

Fenrir was well wrapped up in his blankets, his little face peeking out among fluffy green and gold wolves embroidered on the edges. Hlin fussed over the folds of the blankets, and Loki again stressed that she was more than welcome to come.

“I would not wish to trespass upon the family reunion,” said Hlin. Loki knew that if this had happened before their kiss she would have come with him. It hurt that he had managed to destroy what had been a good relationship by not nipping his and Hlin’s feelings in the bud. They were comfortable again, but they would never have that same intimacy that they had enjoyed.

Frigga carried Fenrir to the Bifröst, while Loki held Jörmungandr’s hand, half afraid his inquisitive son would get too close to the edge of the Bifrost. They needed to install railings.

“Prince Thor is ready for you at what is called Stark Tower,” said Heimdall as they arrived. “I will be delivering you on the top of the building.”

“Good,” said Loki, picking Jörmungandr up and setting him on his hip. The boys had never travelled by Bifröst before and even though the new one was not quite as volatile as before, it was still quite the sensation. Jörmungandr clung on, looking excited and nervous. Frigga linked arms with Loki and tightened her grip on Fenrir, her own expression matching Jörmungandr’s.

There was a soft whoosh of colour and then they were flying through space, heading straight for Midgard. Jörmungandr buried his face in Loki’s neck as they hurtled along, then they were brought up short and their feet touched solid ground as lightly as a falling feather. Loki straightened up and blinked the rainbows from his eyes as he rubbed Jörmungandr’s back and heard his mother shushing Fernir who was squeaking in distress in his puppy form.

“Welcome to Stark Tower King Loki, My Lady the King’s Mother Frigga, Princes Jörmungandr and Fenrir,” said a calm, soothing voice from somewhere in the air. Loki looked around, but before he could take much more than the height of the building they were standing on, a door opened and Thor walked out.

“Mother! Brother!”

“Thor!” Frigga let go of Loki and rushed to embrace her elder son. Loki followed, holding Jörmungandr on his hip as he went. Thor clung to Frigga for a while, and Loki worried Fenrir might be crushed between them, but he did not hear any sounds of distress. Frigga broke away, sniffing and cupping Thor’s cheek.

“Oh my boy, I am so glad you are safe and well.”

Thor beamed at her,

“And I you, I feared for you and Loki and all of Asgard when the Bifröst pieces fell from the heavens.”

“I’m so sorry my son, I wish we could have told you we were safe but-”

“Aye, I know,” said Thor quickly, “Let us not dwell on it. I want to focus on now –when did you get a puppy?”

Loki narrowed his eyes and he opened his mouth then Thor said,

“Oh no! This has to be Fenrir of course. I’m sorry Loki, I didn’t expect him to be a pup.”

Loki closed his mouth with a soft clack, surprised. Frigga covered for him by saying,

“He becomes a pup when he’s alarmed. I suppose the Bifröst is quite a lot for a baby.”

“I wasn’t scared!” said Jörmungandr. Frigga turned to him and smiled, tears still evident on her face.

“No my brave boy, I know you weren’t.”

An odd silence fell as Thor looked at Jörmungandr and Loki watched his brother for any hint of a sneer.

“You must be Jörmungandr,” said Thor at last, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Jörmungandr tightened his grip on Loki’s neck and looked at his father nervously. Loki gave him a squeeze and his son took Thor’s hand, massive in comparison. Thor beamed, “I am so glad to meet you.”

“You’re my uncle Thor?” asked Jörmungandr, looking him up and down.

“Yes, I am,” said Thor and he looked so proud of the fact. Loki set Jörmungandr down on his feet and took Fenrir from Frigga so she could embrace Thor again with both arms. Thor squeezed her close and sniffled, looking overwhelmed. Jörmungandr looked up at Loki, clearly baffled by all the emotion. Loki stroked his hair back with a smile.

“Come,” said Thor as he broke the hug, “My friend Tony Stark has had refreshments prepared for us.”

They moved inside to find a gleaming space of natural light, white floors and a wall of alcohol. A man stood at a high table, sipping what Loki recognised as whiskey –or possibly scotch. He was a short man, with a small, perfectly trimmed beard.

“Hey there, welcome to my humble abode!” he called across the room.

“This is Tony,” said Thor with a faint smile, “He is one of the most respected scientists of this realm.”

“I’m no mere scientist, I’m a genius, billionaire, philanthropist playboy.”

“Playboy?” asked Frigga with wry amusement in her voice. The Allspeak had translated the term quite easily.

“That’s right, and it means exactly what you think it means,” said Stark tipping his glass to her.

“Tony please don’t flirt with my mother,” said Thor in a weary sort of way.

“No way she’s your mother. Your sister maybe, but-” began Stark when Frigga raised her hand, laughing.

“Oh my dear, as adorable as this is, I must put a stop to it. It’s like listening to one of Jörmungandr’s little friends try it.”

“Do they try it?” asked Loki curiously.

“More than once,” said Frigga, still chuckling while Stark looked indignant.

“I am not adorable.”

“Of course you’re not,” said Frigga indulgently. Thor stepped in before Stark could retort, making introductions. Stark welcomed them again and then said,

“Drink? I wasn’t sure what alien royalty would want, so I ordered the most expensive drink in the world. Then Pepper got mad and made me get something else.” He pulled out a bottle of wine and set it on the table. “I’m not a wine person, but apparently this is the best wine in the world. Or at least the fanciest.”

“I’m sure whatever it is will be lovely,” said Frigga.

“I also ordered pizza since Thor says you guys don’t have that and as far as I’m concerned if I let any kid come to earth without trying it I’ll basically be committing a crime.”

“Thank you Tony,” said Thor, with an edge to his voice that Loki knew meant ‘I want you to leave’. The fact that Thor had not just commanded Stark leave told Loki a great deal about how much he had changed.

“Oh, I also took the liberty of setting up some kiddy friendly video games, y’know, for when mini-king there gets sick of grown up talk.” Stark made a flippant gesture towards Jörmungandr, turned away, then turned back, “By the way, love the skin tone! That is badass,” he said to Jörmungandr who stared at him in confusion while Loki narrowed his eyes.

“Tony…” called a woman’s voice in warning as a redhead walked in. “Sorry Thor, we’ll leave you to your family reunion.”

“Thank you Pepper,” said Thor with a smile. The woman, Pepper, took Stark by the arm and dragged him away before he could say anything else. “If you wish it we could have a meal with my friends later, but I wanted to keep things private between us to start.”

“Excellent, I get all my boys to myself,” said Frigga, linking arms with Thor and leading them all to a leather couch. A low table in front of the couch had some books and small boxes on it.

“I bought some things for Jörmungandr to do,” said Thor awkwardly, “I was not sure what he would like but I thought if he’s your son then some colouring would be suitable.”

Jörmungandr knelt at the table and pulled the books towards him.

“What’s a Pokémon?” he asked as he looked at it, squinting as the Allspeak translated the writing in his mind.

“I’m not sure, but they are very popular with children and adults,” said Thor, opening a box and revealing brightly coloured items. Loki thought they were pencils, but they looked a bit strange. “These are markers. They are like pencils but different. And I bought crayons too, we don’t have either of these at home.”

“You mean Asgard?” asked Jörmungandr.

“Yes,” said Thor.

“You don’t live in Asgard, papa said so,” said Jörmungandr, picking up a green marker. Thor’s expression seemed to shatter and reform in the blink of an eye.

“I said he wasn’t living in Asgard at the moment Jörmungandr,” said Loki quickly, “He used to live with us in the palace, and he will when he’s finished here on Midgard.”

“…oh,” said Jörmungandr, eyeing Thor cautiously now. Loki sighed and beckoned Thor with a jerk of his head. He knew his eldest would not be very forthcoming now.

“Don’t be offended,” he said quietly to Thor, “Jörmungandr doesn’t like change. He’s dealt with a lot of it in the five years he’s been home, so he’s a bit mistrustful.”

“Sounds familiar,” said Thor in a low voice. Loki shrugged, well aware that Jörmungandr had many of his worst qualities. “He looks so like you, it’s bizarre,” said Thor quietly, watching Jörmungandr bend low over his colouring book and start scribbling with the green marker.

“I don’t think I ever had quite as bold a fashion sense,” said Loki in mild amusement. In his arms Fenrir had turned back into an Aesir baby and was rubbing at his cheeks. Thor looked down and stared in amazement.

“And he can just change whenever he wishes?”

“Not really, a baby has only instincts, not conscious thoughts. He changes when he’s frightened, or startled. When he gets a bit bigger, he’ll probably get better control over it, just like Jörmungandr.”

“Yes, your father tells me you can turn into a snake,” said Thor in a louder voice to Jörmungandr who glared at him.

“Serpent. Not snake,” he said curtly, before returning to his books.

“And he’s not deaf,” said Loki with a roll of his eyes. “You don’t need to talk to him like he’s an imbecile.”

“Sorry,” said Thor, looking embarrassed. “I’m… not used to children. You were always the one who got along with them. Now I understand why.”

Loki shrugged and then got a wicked idea. He twisted towards Thor and pushed Fenrir into his arms, giving Thor no choice but to take him. Thor looked terrified as he realised what had happened, his whole body froze as he gaped at Loki.

“I can’t hold a baby! I’ve never held a baby!”

Frigga laughed,

“Thor you were the one who carried Loki everywhere you went when he was no smaller than Fenrir.”

“Yes, but that was years ago!” said Thor, now looking between Loki and Fenrir desperately. Fenrir did not seem aware of Thor’s discomfort, which was unusual because normally he would sense someone not being at ease with him. He was even more sensitive than Jörmungandr.

“You wanted to meet both your nephews Thor, not just the one who can talk,” said Loki with a little smirk, folding his arms and sitting back in the couch. He knew he looked utterly unconcerned but in reality he was ready to take Fenrir back at the first sign of something going wrong. Thor finally looked down at Fenrir and seemed to take him in. Loki watched as a softness came over Thor’s face and he sat back, holding Fenrir close. Fenrir turned his big pale eyes to Thor and cooed, fists flailing out of his blanket.

Thor smiled and Loki’s chest seemed to unknot.

**~*~**

Sigyn’s whole body was aching as she sat staring at the reports regarding food supplies. There was no way around it, they were running out and had no way to replenish it. People were already starting to suffer from hunger once more. She pushed the reports away and covered her eyes with a heavy sigh. What was she going to do?

The obvious answer was probably negotiate for help from the other realms. But that was risky, because right now Sigyn had nothing to offer in return, so she would have to offer a promise of future repayment either in money or favours. She already knew what kind of favour Loki would ask for. He would ask for her company, just a few days where they would spend time as friends, set aside their roles as rulers.

Loki would think it a simple price, definitely generous on his part. After all what would it really cost Sigyn to give him a few hours of her time? If they had fun together, wouldn’t it be lovely to do it more often? If they kept enjoying it wouldn’t it be nice to do more? And then there would be a moment, a hand on hand, lips upon lips, skin on skin –and in no time at all Sigyn would be right where she had been while Vanaheim was being set up to be ripped apart. In Loki’s arms, in his bed, letting him talk her out of going to that unimportant council meeting, being convinced that minding Fenrir for an hour was better than going to yet another miserable gathering of traumatised masses looking for her help. Let Loki handle that paperwork, he was already doing his own, wouldn’t it make more sense for them to live together, and Asgard was where the boys lived so she ought to move, she could come back to Vanaheim as needed.

Slowly but surely Sigyn would slip back into her complacency. The complacency that had kept her from seeing the dangers brewing all around her. If she had just pushed back against her parents more –what could they really have done to her? They had never struck her, or even really punished her. In fact, expect in rare moments, they barely seemed to remember her. Maybe it was easier for them to forget about her as much as possible, since they had never gotten over their one and only night together, where they had made her and felt mutually violated.

Sigyn’s neck burned with phantom pain and she scratched at it, trying to dispel the sensation of the choking collar around her throat. She pulled her heavy wig off and tossed it onto the table, drawing her legs up and hugging them as she tried to banish the memories that were trying to creep out of the depths of her mind. It was harder to do the longer she went without sleep, but at least when she was awake she could distract herself. In her dreams she was trapped, trapped by terrible memories and strange, discomforting thoughts.

Thoughts such as ‘I want him to hold me and tell me I’m safe’.

Those thoughts were dangerous.

They could always force Svartalfheim to give them more food, goodness knows they would deserve it. Yet Sigyn had been trying with every fibre of her being to be a peace-making queen, not a conqueror. She was not Malekith or Odin, or even her war-mongering mother. War did not suit her, peace did. But there was no denying that there were days when she wanted to burn every Svartalf alive so her people could get the resources they had. Why should they continue to live such easy lives when her people were suffering?

There was a knock on the door. Sigyn snatched up her wig and set it back on before calling,

“Enter!”

Hjördís strode in, carrying a tablet,

“I thought you’d like the summary of the situation in Jancliff.”

Sigyn took the tablet and skimmed the notes. Jancliff was a city that a lot of people had flocked to after the invasion had been pushed back. It was large but had not been very strategic, so it had not suffered the assaults the capital cities had. Now it was crammed with people trying to find a life for themselves out of the wreckage.

Two days ago a disaster had occurred when a wall had collapsed. No one had been harmed by the collapse, but the sounds had been so like the sound of Malekith’s bombs that half the city had been sent into panicked flashbacks, and a stampede had injured dozens of people. A whole city tearing itself apart over a memory. Sigyn had rushed to the city to calm the situation and had managed to use her seiðr and her song to pull everyone out of their own minds.

“Are there any deaths?” she asked, not taking in any of the information from the tablet.

“No my queen. The people in hospital are all recovering well.” Hjördís hesitated then said, “You were remarkable my queen.”

Sigyn set the tablet down and glared at her advisor,

“I sang a song, Hjördís, don’t exaggerate my actions.”

“No one else could calm the people,” said Hjördís in a ‘please be reasonable’ tone. “Sigyn, you should not fear-”

“I don’t!” snapped Sigyn with no idea what Hjördís was going to say but she was tired of her advisors trying to… do whatever it was they were doing when they praised her. Distract her, inflate her ego so she would let them do what they liked. Whatever it was she would not let it happen. “We need to find a way to heal the people, properly. We need mind healers to help them move forward from their trauma.”

“Alfheim has offered their services,” said Hjördís in a cautious voice. Sigyn’s stomach lurched. To let Alfheim come in with their mind healers would be an admission that she could not help her own people. The truth was even the mind healers she had would not be in any state to help anyone. Yet asking for mind healers would prove that Vanaheim was wounded, vulnerable. Sigyn pushed away from the table and began to pace around the room. Finally she turned to Hjördís and asked,

“Do you think this is a security risk? Or is admitting we need help just a blow to my pride as a queen?”

Hjördís tilted her head thoughtfully before saying,

“I see it as both. Like you I don’t like the idea of admitting our realm’s weakness to anyone else, but… it’s hard to hide the obvious. However I understand that you wish to be seen on an equal footing with the other rulers.”

“I want to do what’s best for my people,” said Sigyn quietly. Hjördís came up and touched Sigyn on the shoulder.

“That has never been in question,” she said quietly. “The question is always what is best.”

“What do you suggest?” asked Sigyn quietly, “Even Alfheim cannot supply enough mind healers for the whole population, even if it has been devastated.”

“Not everyone will want them,” said Hjördís, “But it might be worthwhile to have some available.”

“It won’t fix the overall problem, will it? The only thing that will do that is to restore our prosperity.”

“Something that cannot be rushed.”

Sigyn sighed and passed a hand over her face.

“I need to find us an ally, don’t I? One that will be bound as completely as possible.”

Hjördís said nothing, but she squeezed Sigyn’s shoulder. Sigyn smiled bitterly as her eyes burned.

“Tell the council to start properly evaluating marriage options for me.”

Hjördís was quiet for another moment, then asked in a gentle voice,

“Would you not rather wait until after the Reset?”

Sigyn shook her head,

“No, we need to start planning for what comes after that. We can’t just… the Reset won’t return those we lost, it won’t make Vanaheim green and strong again. It won’t undo what was done.”

It hurt to admit it, but the Reset would not fix everything the way she had been telling herself it would. The acceptance of this had crept up on her, day by day. She had been foolish to pretend that it would.

Hjördís’ arm slipped around Sigyn’s shoulders and pulled her against her stockier frame. Sigyn held herself stiffly, ignoring her instinct to bury into the embrace. A queen could not afford such familiarity.

“You know, none of the advisors would ever presume to replace your Svana or Ey… but even queens need trusted companions,” said Hjördís gently. Sigyn pulled out of her embrace.

“Those companions cannot also be advisors to the queen. It’s a conflict of interest,” she said curtly, waving her hand to dismiss Hjördís. Hjördís bowed and left without a word. Sigyn blinked hard to hold back the tears that had stirred. She had not cried since that night the illusions had disappeared, despite feeling on the verge of tears all the time. She threw open the window to get some air, but all she could see was the devastation below.

Until now when she had looked out she had been consumed with self-loathing. After all, as Rasil had reminded her over and over, this was her fault. If she had not loved so fiercely, then none of this would have happened. Yet as she looked down at the burnt land it struck her that she had not been the one to rain down the bombs. Whatever her choices had been, Malekith had been the one to decide to invade. Rasil had been the one to decide to work with him.

Sigyn frowned and shook her head to dispel the thought. No, this was her fault, she had failed, she could have been a better princess, a better person. Yet… her parents had been the ones who had been ruling the realm, why had they not seen any of this coming? How could they not have known about the rebels at all? How could they have been so unaware of Malekith’s plans? They had been good rulers.

Hadn’t they?

Sigyn gave herself another shake and turned away, wondering where these ridiculous thoughts were coming from. The whole thing had been her failing, she knew it. She had been told over and over again by Rasil, the only person who had ever been honest with her, even if he had also tried to force himself on her.

Sigyn froze. She had never put those thoughts into any kind of coherent string before. It had just been a repeating mantra of whirling fears and memories she could not stop. She sank into her chair again, staring into nothing, trying to understand. Rasil had tortured her, he’d murdered her mothers and sisters, had spent months molesting her, and now she was using his words as a guide for her rule? She found herself wishing for him to be near so she could stay strong, not waver from her path to redemption. What person longs for their abuser to come back?

_Someone who cannot admit that they were a victim._

Tears began to fall down her cheeks. They burned but as they fell it felt like a knot in her chest that she had never realised was there was starting to loosen.


	28. Welcome to Earth

The morning dawned clear and crisp over Geneva, but the city was already buzzing with excitement. Today was the day aliens would arrive on Earth. Steve Rogers was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that he would bear witness to this event. For him it had only been a few years since it had seemed humanity would destroy itself with its own weapons. He had been awake for two hours, having left the hotel he was staying in to go for a run.

Geneva was a beautiful city, with Mont Saléve dominating the southern view, Mont Blanc a smaller point further back. The green and blue of the natural world mixed with the fine old buildings and Steve was itching to draw everything he saw. But he held himself back, he had work to do. He was here to keep an eye on the security around the UN headquarters where the alien leaders would be arriving and speaking to Earth’s leaders about their intentions and this upcoming Convergence.

The aliens had transmitted across the world the information regarding the Convergence and the magic –“It’s science damnit!” Tony had yelled daily –so the humans could analyse it, but there were still a thousand questions. Steve had examined it and had been excited at the idea that it would help repair the damage humans had done to the Earth. For himself he was also excited to think about the things that might be seen with the Convergence, it was implied they might see extraordinary natural phenomena. The artist dreamed of seeing galaxies hovering above his city, and new colours in the sky.

Because Steve was representing SHIELD, Coulson had suggested he wear his Captain America suit, however, Steve felt it would draw too much attention to himself. He had considered his dress military uniform, but after talking with Natasha and Pepper Potts he had gone for a nice blue suit that Pepper had helped him buy two years ago for a charity event Stark Industries had organised.

As he dressed Steve wondered just how the alien leaders would dress. Would they be exotic or rather ordinary? Considering four of them would be blue giants, he expected as least something interesting. Even Thor’s brother, who had looked the most human of all the people he had seen in the original broadcast, had been dressed uniquely.

Clint was hoping King Loki would wear his horns, because they were hilarious.

Doing up his tie, Steve found himself thinking back to the night he had met King Loki and Queen Sigyn, all those years ago. He remembered being somewhat flustered by them both, they had been so charming and attractive. He had been struck by how obviously in love they had been, and beyond impressed by their dancing. Luke –Loki –had thrown his wife into the air and she had swung around on his shoulders with stunning grace and strength.

After Thor had revealed their real identities back in 2012, Steve had gone searching for footage of the competition, and with Coulson’s help he had found it. Thor, his friends and the other Avengers had watched with fascination as the contestants danced. Tony demanded to know how that kind of dancing was ok, but a couple grinding together in a club pissed Steve off. Steve had ignored the untrue accusation. He did not exactly like what passed for dancing these days, but that was because he had dreamed of being strong and healthy enough to gain the skills needed for his era’s dancing. He had dreamed about meeting a fun gal and taking her dancing and being strong enough to make sure her feet never touched the ground.

Bucky had been great at it.

Thor had mentioned after his meeting with Loki that the couple were having problems. Steve had been surprised by how saddened he had felt about it, but then again, he only remembered them so well because they had been so obviously in love. Steve had thought ‘I want that’ when Loki had kissed Sigyn and she had clung to him with enthusiasm.

There was a knock on his door.

“It’s open!” Steve called. The door swung open and Natasha came in wearing a black skirt and jacket, her red hair up in a twist.

“Hey! Lookin’ fine Cap,” she drawled with her little half smirk. Steve chuckled and smoothed his tie down.

“Thanks. You look good yourself.”

Natasha accepted the compliment wordlessly. He liked that about her. She never interpreted his words as flirtatious, they had a comfortable platonic relationship.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” Steve picked up his shield bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Where’re the others?”

“Still getting ready, but I knew you’d be up, so I figured we could go ahead and check everything out.”

“Sounds good.”

They bought breakfast on the way, French croissants and rich coffee, and waved their security passes at the check in at the door. The guards gave Steve a curious look, but said nothing as they let them through.

“Come on, some of the delegates should be here too,” said Natasha, leading the way into Building E. She was right. Gathered in the open space of the ground floor were people Steve recognised from reading up on politics. Germany’s Chancellor was talking animatedly with France’s President and the UK’s Prime Minister. He spotted what looked like Ireland’s Prime Minister talking with Italy, Egypt and China’s Presidents.

There seemed to be a lot of reigning kings that Steve knew did not usually attend UN summits, as they had First Ministers to do the political work abroad, but he supposed if ever there was to be an exception, today would be it.

Then he saw someone that made his heart jump.

“I-Is that the Pope?” he asked in a strangled whisper. Natasha looked around and raised her eyebrows,

“Oh, yeah.”

Steve stared in awe at the man, his mouth hanging open slightly. Natasha looked from him to the Pope and back.

“Steve,” she asked in deadly serious voice, “Please tell me you’re not fan-boying out.”

Steve gave himself a little shake and looked at her,

“Sorry, it’s just… wow! My mom kept a picture of Pope Benedict XV and then Pope Pius XI in our apartment when I was a kid. It’d be such an honour to meet him, my mom would be so proud.”

Natasha gave him a look over as if to determine if he was being serious, then a little smile crept over her face.

“I forget sometimes that you have genuine faith.”

Steve shrugged, he was getting used to the majority of people he dealt with not having much or any faith, but it did not undermine his own feelings of loyalty to his parents’ religion. Not even the fact that aliens were real would do that. The Pope had already released a statement about the Church’s views about it and Steve had been relieved that it was relatively accepting.

“Ms Romanoff,” a voice cut through his thoughts and he turned to see a young man approaching them.

“Prince T’Challa,” said Natasha with a little bow of her head. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you. I was not sure you would make an appearance, it seems very much out in the open for you,” said T’Challa with perfect, accented English.

“This is Steve Rogers, aka Captain America,” said Natasha, “Steve, this is Prince T’Challa of Wakanda.”

“A pleasure sir,” said Steve, holding out his hand.

“Likewise,” said T’Challa, shaking it. “My father will be delighted to meet you, he remembers hearing about you during the war when he was a young man.”

“Well, I look forward to meeting him. So how do you feel about this upcoming meeting?”

“Conflicted, if I am honest.”

“You’re not excited about meeting real live aliens?” asked Steve.

“The boy I once was is ecstatic, but the prince I am is wary. These aliens clearly have advanced technology and from what I have read, they have much more experience of the wider universe.”

“They have promised they mean peace,” said Steve, though he understood T’Challa’s point. “We can only prepare so much for things to go bad before we become the aggressors. Besides, should we not take the chance they are offering us?”

“A quick fix for global warming that will encourage those who oppose it to ignore it?” asked T’Challa with a glance over at the other delegates. Steve thought his eyes lingered on the American president, but could guess he was thinking of the other politicians who were Global Warming Sceptics that had a lot of sway over the House and Congress.

“We can only see how things go and be prepared for all alternatives,” said Natasha. The two men murmured their agreement. Steve checked his watch.

“They’ll be here in two hours, we’d better make sure everything’s ok.” He bowed slightly to T’Challa, “It was nice to meet you, your highness.”

“And you Captain Rogers.”

They parted ways with T’Challa and Natasha said,

“He’s got a point.”

“Points that we’ve all been saying for weeks, but in the end will that really dissuade us from seeing what these aliens have to offer us?”

“Nope,” said Natasha.

**~*~**

Of course there had already been talks between earth and the other planets, pre-arrangements to ensure that everything went smoothly. The kinds of things that would be discussed on the first day, the kinds of questions that journalists could ask –which was already causing dark mutterings, as if such a thing had never happened before.

Now, at last, the hour had come. Uzma Abdullah, recently appointed Secretary-General of the United Nations, stood at the head of the delegates, adjusting her al-amira so the folds were tucked and flat against the side of her face. The veil was already perfect, but it let her express her nerves without looking agitated. Next to her three small boys and four small girls, picked through an online contest, stood in their best clothes, clutching bouquets of flowers, trembling with excitement.

In front of the Palace of Nations the roads had been blocked off, with railings to allow the eager public a chance to witness the occasion. A thousand cameras or more were in every position imaginable to broadcast the meeting across the globe. Twitter had already crashed twice, and Facebook could not stand up under the strain either, to the frustration of their founders.

Before the gates there was a platform that was part stage and part landing pad. A huge swath of bunting decorated the edges, with every country’s flag and in an ostentatious display of sentimentality, a letter from a precocious child from almost every country welcoming the aliens swinging in the breeze.   

The clock struck 10am Geneva time, and absolute silence fell. The whole city seemed to have been struck dumb. Not even a bird could be heard. Eyes were fixed on the platform, waiting.

Then there was a swirl of colours like the Northern Lights that came shimmering down from the sky. People gasped and oohed as the colours filled the platform, and materialised a large group of people. In silence the colours faded, revealing three blue giants that towered over everyone, decked in furs, silks and gold.

There were four very tall men, with red and orange skin and black marks tattooed over their bodies which were bare save for a minimum of clothing. They seemed to burn from within, like the hint of white hot lava under a cooling crust.

The next noticeable group were the small, slim beings with wings, four of them, led by a beaming woman with flowers in her hair. Next to her were a group of similarly small, pale beings with blue facial markings and dark leather clothing.

Next to them a group of rotund, hairless people wearing glittering gemstones in their clothes seemed to bounce and waddle excitedly in their cluster. Finally there were the most human looking people, half of which wore heavy ceremonial armour, half wore silks. A man stood among them with a massive horned helmet on his head, enhancing his already considerable height, while the darker skinned, silk clad people gathered around a woman wearing a glittering crown which her multi-coloured hair was woven into.

The arrivals all looked around with interest at the huge crowds that had gathered, but the humans did not move to cheer or indeed, do anything. The sheer strangeness of the arrivals, the fact that they really did seem to be real, seemed to have stolen their ability to move.

The woman in the glittering crown stepped forward, looking to Uzma Abdullah with an expectant smile. Uzma drew herself up and stepped forward to the series of microphones that had been set up for this moment.

“On behalf of the United Nations, and by extension, the planet Earth and all humankind, I welcome you, honoured guests to Geneva, Switzerland for the beginnings of what I hope will become a long and prosperous future.”

Uzma repeated the words in her native Arabic and in French, forgoing the other three official languages of the UN by reluctant agreement that all six would take too long, and they could not be sure Uzma’s pronunciation would do Chinese and Russian justice. As it was the guests looked a little restless by the time she had finished the French greeting. Finally, the woman in the glittering crown –across the world TV screens flashed up the name Queen Sigyn of Vanaheim –stepped to her own microphones.

“I thank you on behalf of myself and the other realms represented here today for your gracious welcome. It is so good to be here on Midgard, or Earth as you call it, and know that this is the start of something wonderful.”

She spoke only once, but every single person who heard her understood her as if she spoke their native language.

“We are so excited to bring Earth into the midst of the Nine Realms, to take your rightful place alongside us. It had been a long time coming, and we cannot wait to see what you will bring to the table, and what we can share with you in turn.”

The UN delegates applauded, prompting the crowd to do the same. Next to Uzma, the children with the flowers seemed to be frozen with fear as they stared up at the blue giants. Queen Sigyn continued to speak, expanding on the differences of the realms she and the others represented, speaking of her excitement once again that Earth was going to become a fully-fledged part of their system. When she finished she looked at the children and her photogenic smile became something a little kinder and softer,

“Are those for us?” she prompted. The children were nudged forward and the first one held out his bouquet to her, while a little girl held out hers to the tall king with the golden horns. The child who was meant to give the flowers to the giants would not move until the leader, a male one, knelt down and rumbled,

“I will not bite.”

Queen Sigyn giggled and beckoned the child forward, resting her hand on the blue arm. The golden horned man, -King Loki of Asgard flashed across the TV screens –did the same for the girl expected to hand over flowers to the orange skinned men. Once all the children had handed over their flowers, a band began to play the UN anthem and Uzma beckoned the guests to follow her. They followed and before the astonished eyes of the world, the blue giants began to shrink until they were the only a head and shoulders taller than King Loki, so they could walk into the building. The doors closed after them, and that was it.

Aliens had officially arrived on Earth and the planet would never be the same again.

**~*~**

Loki yawned as he followed the others to where they were intended to sleep that night. The talks had gone very well, considering half the humans seemed to be trying to figure out how they were going to turn on them. It was all basics right now, getting a better sense of how to manage each other.

So far Loki reckoned they had a good chance of convincing enough of the representatives to agree to Sigyn’s plan. Some seemed especially eager when she had explained in detail what the Reset would do for the environment. Loki could tell Berach had been chewing his tongue to stop himself launching into a lecture about how they would have to give up their fossil fuels to really gain any benefit. Loki doubted they would listen. Humans were like Asgardians, not trying to fix something until everything had gone wrong.

Stubborn, was probably the word for it. Or possibly pig headed.

Still, so far so good. The food had been nice. 

The room he was shown to was quite impressive by the standards he had seen on Midgard over the centuries. White and gold gleamed and his bed looked to be covered in the finest sheets. His baggage was already there.

Loki sat down on the couch facing what looked like another ‘television screen’ –there had been a lot of them around at the UN. He wondered what you could do with it. A knock on his door made him forget the thought at once.

“Come!”

Sverrir walked in, looking perplexed,

“I was just talking to one of the Midgardian assistants, and they were saying things about how you are tweeting ‘like mad’.”

“Did you manage to find out what that means?” asked Loki in amusement.

“Nope. Too tired.” Sverrir dropped down next to Loki and stretched. “So… could you tell the difference between one country and another?”

Loki smacked him lightly on the shoulder,

“Just be grateful, the number of countries has only decreased with time, and the diversity has reduced from the constant influence of Empire. You recall the Minister of Germany?”

“The woman? I liked her!” said Sverrir with a grin.

“I knew you would,” drawled Loki, “Anyway, her country is a sizeable chunk of the European continent, but when I used to come here with Sigyn that country was a mass of different and ever changing principalities.”

“So… be grateful the number is as low as it is?”

“Mmhm,” said Loki, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. “I think we’ve a good chance of convincing them.”

“I think we’ve got a battle ahead of us,” said Sverrir. “Some of those people were outright glaring at us.”

“I’m sure we can talk them around. Midgard only stands to benefit from this situation, they will sacrifice very little. They can be small minded, but they are not so stupid they won’t take advantage of an opportunity. In fact I would say that’s their defining trait.”

Sverrir hummed sleepily, then Loki felt him get up,

“Well, I’m off to bed. Good night Loki.”

Loki waved vaguely and listened to the door open and close. Then he sat up and summoned his communicator. It floated into his hand and he sent a connection to Asgard, which was quickly answered.

“Papa!” crowed Jörmungandr, his face distorted as he pressed it too close to his own communicator. Loki grinned,

“How’s my boy?”

“Good! I hit the middle of the target with my arrow, and I got a silver crown on my spelling test.”

“Wow, a silver crown and a struck arrow. You’ve had a busy day,” said Loki, enjoying the way his son’s face shone with pleasure. “How’s your brother and grandmother?”

“Fenrir’s fine, Amma and Hlin took us for a walk in the forest. We saw a monster!”

“A monster?” asked Loki, leaning forward in concern as he dimly heard his door open again.  

“Mmhm! It was a huge bird!”

“Ah I see.” Loki relaxed back, understanding what they had seen. “Did you try to catch it?”

“No, I wanted to, but Amma said I had to wait until I got big. I think I could catch it now if I went serpent.”

“Amma Frigga is right I’m afraid. The bird is too big for you, even in your serpent form.” Loki glanced up to see who had come in. Sigyn was staring at the device in his hands, looking staggered.

“Papa?”

Loki had to give himself a shake to remember what he was doing. He looked at his son who was pouting at him.

“Sorry son. Will you promise me you won’t go looking for the monster without Hlin or me?”

Jörmungandr’s pout deepened,

“Will you help me catch it?”

“Perhaps.”

“I want a pet!” blurted Jörmungandr. He clearly had been thinking about this for a while. Loki sighed, he had been expecting this. Jörmungandr was very fond of Thundi’s cat and talked about her at dinner very frequently.

“A pet is a very big responsibility son.”

“Thundi does it, and we’re the same age.”

“Yes, but…” Loki considered how to explain to his son that he might be of similar age –although that in itself was a complicated issue –but he had neither Thundi’s patience, nor his temper. As sweet as Jörmungandr could be, Loki was somewhat concerned about what he would do with a pet that displeased him. Jörmungandr still did not fully understand the simple fact that the world was not just an extension of his own will. “We’ll talk about it when I’m home.”

Jörmungandr pouted,

“That’s just your way of saying no!”

“I said we will discuss it and I meant it,” said Loki firmly, though inside he knew he was already crumbling. He was getting better, but he still could not find it in him to deny his eldest anything.

Was this what it was like for Odin with Thor?

“Fine,” Jörmungandr pouted.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow son,” said Loki, and he closed the connection. He looked back at Sigyn who was still staring at the spot Jörmungandr’s face had been. “Any ideas how I can avoid this turning into a disaster?”

Sigyn blinked and seemed to come back to herself. She arched a pale eyebrow, then said

“Give him the tasks that go with having a pet, as a way to prove his capabilities. If he tires of it, you can say he had his chance and he’ll need to try again if he wants a pet.”

Loki gave her a half grin,

“That’s actually brilliant.”

Sigyn shrugged,

“It’s what my parents did when I begged for a pet. They had me mucking out the stables.”

“You never mentioned having a pet before, did you give up on the idea?”

“No, the council thought it would look bad if I was seen acting like a commoner, when they were cultivating an image of me being regally royal.” She tilted her head slightly to the side. “Now that I think about it those idiots were talking out their backside. No wonder people hated me.”

“From what you told me, only a small group objected to you, but something tells me that was in spite of the council’s nonsense,” said Loki, wincing when something flashed across her face that might have been pain. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re the only other person who knows Midgard as well as I do. I wanted to know what you thought of today?”

“Of course,” Loki indicated she sit next to him. When she did, she did not seem as tense as she had before. “Drink?”

“Please.”

Loki half rose then sat back,

“Alcohol or no?”

Sigyn looked startled for a moment, then gave him a twisted smile,

“I haven’t had an alcoholic drink since before the invasion. I suppose I should keep up the sobriety.”

“I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Loki started but she shook her head,

“No, you’re right, non-alcoholic.”

Loki had to search for something that would do, finding something labelled ‘Coke-Cola’ in a metal can. Recognising it vaguely from previous visits, he popped them, blinking in surprise at the fizzing that came out. He poured the strange brown drink into two glasses and handed one to Sigyn. He sipped at it, wincing at the sheer sweetness of it. Sigyn too seemed to find it too sweet, but she drank anyway.

“I think things went well today,” said Loki when she did not speak.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” was the slow reply.

“What do you think?” Loki pressed.

“I… I don’t know. I want to believe that they will agree to what we need, but some of them… I didn’t like the way they looked at me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I had no right to be there, they seemed… offended by my presence.” Sigyn had that edge of paranoia in her expression that Loki was becoming used to seeing. “It was because I’m a woman, I know it was! I thought humans were past this nonsense, but it would seem not.”

“Well then what do you want to do about it?”

“What can I do? I cannot just tell them to grow up, they won’t listen to me if they have that ridiculous notion embedded in their heads. Maybe it would be better if I let you and Berach take the reins in this.”

“That would be giving into those men.”

“I need their cooperation more than I need their respect,” said Sigyn, half talking into her glass.

“For this, true, but what about afterwards?”

“I can crush them afterwards,” said Sigyn with a tiny grin. Loki could not suppress a chuckle.

“That could do it.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Sigyn sipping at the sweet drink and Loki trying not to stare at her too hard. He wanted to engage with her but he could not think of what to say.

“Your son looks so like you,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “Colouring aside.”

“So everyone says, although he has a very different sense of style to me.”

That little grin came back and she chuckled into glass. Some hair fell over her face and Loki could not stop himself reaching up and pushing it behind her ear. Sigyn twitched, but otherwise did not seem to notice the touch. Loki took that as a good sign,

“How are you Sigyn?” he asked. Sigyn tensed, then sighed, lowering her glass to rest on her thigh,

“I’m… functioning,” she said slowly. “Right now that’s all I can manage.”

Loki nodded, waiting for more.

“Berach won’t leave my palace, it’s extremely annoying,” she added.

“He cares for you,” said Loki.

“That doesn’t mean I have to accept his insistent attention,” said Sigyn. “Just because his feelings are genuine does not mean I have to accept them.”

“Would it be so terrible to accept them?”

“It is… too much right now. Why should I have to bear someone trying to batter me with their feelings because they’re genuine and well meaning, when that is not what I want or need right now?”

Loki considered her words, and a gleam of guilt seemed to cut right inside him.

“You’re right. We might want to give you only well intentioned things, but trying to force them on you against your will is not the way we should do it.”

Sigyn gave him a pitying look.

“That should not have taken you so long to understand. I thought our relationship at least taught you something about how to consider other people’s emotional consent.”

“I like to think it did… but then I realise when it comes to the people I love most I can’t always see past what I want of them and for them. It’s the same with my sons. They are not what I expected, what I dreamed, and I haven’t been coping very well with that. I suppose it’s the same with you, I clung so hard to what I desperately wanted for us that I’m struggling to accept that I cannot just make that happen.”

“So in other words, you’re selfish. Well, I suppose that’s something we have in common,” sighed Sigyn. Loki huffed and shook his head. He didn’t bother arguing because she had a point about him, and he would not convince her otherwise about herself.

“So what now?” he asked.

“Now? I’m going to bed, tomorrow is going to be a painfully long one,” said Sigyn, setting down her empty glass and standing up. “Good night Loki.”

“Good night Sigyn.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was a pain and an half to write. It really was hard to figure out how to present the aliens’ arrival on Earth, how Earth would handle it, where they would meet –just a million things that I had to figure out.  
>   
> Originally I was going to set the meeting on Antarctica, because I thought that would be the most neutral territory on Earth, but while that might have made the Frost Giants happy it would have been a pain for everyone else, and there was a chance it might have really hurt the Demons. So I went with Geneva, a place I’ve never been to, so I tried to be as vague as possible.  
>   
> Because Steve is going to be more important later I decided to give him more attention to really integrate him into the story. And also because I got the idea that people who normally wouldn’t attend the UN would turn up for this, this could include the Pope because although the Vatican City is not a member of the UN it is a Permanent Observer State, which means they have the right to attend particular events –I couldn’t imagine an event everyone would want to attend more than this. So Steve got to geek out a little. I kinda wish they’d explore his faith a bit more in the movies, but that would probably risk alienating people.  
>   
> Interestingly I realised Steve is the only person in the whole universe who ever saw Loki and Sigyn as a couple when they were happy together that’s still around.  
>   
> I don’t expect T’Challa to show up much, but you never know. I liked him in Civil War, so I decided to include him. Getting the political stuff done is going to be the biggest challenge for me, as it’s not my strongest subject for writing, but I do wanna include it. And I am aware what politics were going on in 2016 which is the year this story is now set in so it… might come up, but we’ll see. It might turn the story into too much of a clusterfuck.  
>   
> The conversation between Loki and Sigyn actually went very differently in a previous version, there was much more direct, open conversation that Loki managed to bungle, but I felt that Sigyn was being far too open with him for the place she’s in now. Plus she offered him something that I don’t think she’s ready to offer. So I think the conversation I went with is more realistic, but I’m not a 100% happy with it. Being on Earth is going to stir up a lot of emotions for everyone, but hopefully in ways that’ll surprise you all.


	29. An Awkward Meeting

****The next morning there was a breakfast and Loki watched from the wrong end of the table as Byleist and Sigyn conversed. There was nothing particularly flirtatious about it, but it was comfortable and almost intimate. Afterwards, they were given some new devices, called smartphones. Unlimited calls, unlimited texts, unlimited 4G –whatever any of that meant. They were given a demonstration of how they worked by Tony Stark who spent most of the demonstration flirting with Sigyn and Aetril. Right up until Aetril asked whether the devices would listen to their conversations in their room and not just when the devices were in use.

“They’re StarkPhones, and I don’t really give a crap what you guys say to each other so long as you’re not trying to take over the world,” Stark replied with a cock of his eyebrow.

“Yes, but, you’re just the man who made them. I wonder what the people who wanted us to have them will do?” Aetril smiled at him as Berach grinned at his mother. Before Stark could say anything, Sigyn held hers up and waved her free hand over it, casting a detection spell.

“There are four ways that this device can monitor us, vision, audio, location and information input,” she said. Loki tilted his head in surprise, he did not recognise the spell she had just performed. Sigyn looked angry and held up the phone higher. “This is just a way for you to spy on us between meetings.”

“It’s not,” said Stark, striding over to her with a cockiness Loki almost admired. “Let’s be real here, are we nosy bastards who wanna know everything you guys are doing and saying? Absolutely. But don’t tell me you don’t have ways to block us. This mistrust is a two way street, right?”

There was a moment when Loki thought Sigyn’s expression cracked but it was over before it began. Stark continued,

“What you have there is a device with the same level of security that anyone else here has, so long as they’re smart enough to buy my stuff. You do whatever you need to to make sure it doesn’t offend your privacy, but you’re already better protected than most people.”

“Is that meant to be reassuring?” asked Berach.

“No, but here’s a little something you should know about Earth. Everyone loves gossip, especially from celebrities and you lot are currently the biggest celebrities on the planet –after me anyway.”

“Get to the point,” grumbled Byleist.

“Ok ok, Grumpy Smurf! The point is that if you want to win Earth over, you need to win the people over, not the politicians. They’re already up for grabs, but the rest of us… not so sure. These-” he waved a regal hand at his own phone, “Will help you do that. I’ve already set you up for Twitter accounts, Instagram, YouTube, and Facebook –that way you don’t get stuck with QueenSigyn1 because someone else already got QueenSigyn.”

Stark went on to explain how the platforms worked. Sverrir looked very excited and demanded he get his own Twitter to compliment Loki’s, quickly taking a picture –‘selfie’ –and announcing his presence to Earth.

“It reeks of popularism,” said Berach, though his tone was amused. “Mother I think you and Sigyn will be quite good at this.”

Byleist and Sina were having problems. Byleist’s touch was not recognised by the device and Sina’s screen melted under his touch. Stark looked offended that his technology had failed so fast.

“I’ll sort you two out by tomorrow!” he said stubbornly. “You’ll want to build up a presence, let everyone see that you’re human.”

“But we’re not,” said Sina slowly as if Stark was a bit dim.

“He means show them we’re not distant, that we are people like they are,” muttered Byleist. 

“Exactly. Now, considering who you all are, you’ll get a lot of followers very quickly, so just respond and you’ll have them eating out of your hand.”

“You seem to want this collaboration to happen,” said Sigyn, eyeing him shrewdly, the phone turning in circles between her forefinger and thumb.

“You’re aliens that can travel between planets. I wanna get in on that! Besides, you’ve been yapping about magic and I am so gonna prove that it’s just really cool science,” said Stark. Loki snorted with laughter. Stark looked at him, a challenge in his eyes already. “You don’t think I can Reindeer Games?”

A giggle escaped Sigyn’s mouth before she could stop herself, and she covered her mouth with her hand, blushing when Loki caught her eye.

“Watch your tone Mr Stark,” said Sverrir protectively, “You’re still talking to rulers of other worlds.”

Loki cut in before Stark could reply,

“Do you really think no one else has tried to prove that the laws of magic are simply an extension of the laws of nature?”

“Maybe they did, but they weren’t me.”

“And just who are you?” asked Berach, his wings beating faintly in amusement.

“A Genius, Billionaire Philanthropist.”

There was a beat, during which Aetril did not bother to fight her smile, while Sigyn rolled her eyes hard behind him.

“In any case,” said Fullangr, twisting the rings on her flexible, strong fingers. “The Convergence is not something you know anything about, you’ll need us to help you through it.”

“Bring it on,” said Stark, flicking his fingernail on the screen of his phone. “Now, let me explain to you the wonderful world of trolls.”

Two hours later, they were all trouping into the amphitheatre-like room, to sit at a table facing the rows that rose up before them. Sverrir was tapping away on his phone, like he had been doing since Stark left.

“Nine thousand twenty three people are already following me, and all I’ve done is send out a greeting and tell them who I am.” Sverrir looked at Loki, his eyes bright and his smile wide, “Can we have this on Asgard?”

Loki chuckled,

“Maybe, if you can show me the benefits.”

Sverrir went right back to typing. Loki watched him with a small grin as more of Earth’s leaders filed in, then reached out and put his hand over the phone.

“You do remember you’re here to help me in this room?”

“But from this room I can reach the whole planet and make everyone love you!” said Sverrir with too wide eyes. Loki snorted and shook his head,

“Have I lost you to these mortals already my friend?”

“I’ll come back and visit you,” said Sverrir seriously. Loki shook his head and looked around. Aetril and Berach were chatting, while Fullangr and Byleist conversed in serious tones. Sigyn, sitting in the middle of the table, was too fixated on her own tablet device. Probably reading all her notes so she could talk the people gathering in front of them around to their side.

Loki’s shoulders ached just looking at how tense she was. If she did not relax and allow some of her real personality to come through, no one would trust her. Loki stood up, walked over to Sigyn and touched her shoulder. She started and looked up at him. Loki bent forward and murmured in her ear,

“You used to make every court we visited adore you, just by being who you really are. I know you feel those stolen days were selfish, but they still taught you how to win humans over, and it would be even more selfish not to use those lessons –then those days would have been a waste.”

Sigyn trembled slightly and he drew back to look at her, seeing the grief in her eyes. He smiled reassuringly,

“You can do this, we can do this. Just trust in your own abilities. You stopped Malekith, it was painful and difficult but you made it happen. Just pretend this is one of courts we visited, and make them adore you.”

Sigyn’s expression flattened, he could see her trying to compartmentalise her feelings, and he knew he needed to give her space now. It was up to her whether she heeded his advice. As he returned to his seat he caught Aetril’s eye and saw her smile in approval.

Uzma Abdullah called the session to start and outlined the day’s plans. Most of it would be given over to expanding on the Convergence and the Reset, and if there was time they would discuss how Earth would be integrated into the current political landscape of the Nine. It fell to Berach to give the background to the Convergence, as he had said little the day before and they wanted everyone at the table to have a role.

Berach was not a passionate speaker, but that suited this need, because he was able to explain things in a calm and straightforward manner. Loki found himself somewhat envious of Sigyn having been taught some seiðr by him as a child.

Berach finished his presentation and sat down by his mother, who squeezed his hand in approval as Uzma called for questions from the world leaders.

“The chair recognises the United States of America.”

A handsome black man, who Loki thought had the look of someone who had aged very quickly in a short time frame, leaned forward to speak into the microphone.

“I wanted to ask Prince Berach if he could clarify why Earth is so central to this plan.”

“The Nine are connected by an unusually strong magical current, called Yggdrasil,” explained Berach. “This flows between the planets and is what has enabled us to be connected for so long. Travel to worlds outside this current requires the use of space faring ships. Earth is right at the centre of this, which means our Reset is best sent outward from here.”

“But why now? Why have you waited so long to contact us about it?” pressed the United States.

Berach looked to Sigyn, who answered,

“Until recently your world was under Asgard’s authority, and King Odin had decreed that you be left alone. However recent discoveries have led to the realisation that the current is in an unstable condition, the cause of which is complex and varied, but will inevitably cause us all harm if left unchecked.”

Another delegate made a request for a question.

“The chair recognises Russia.”

“Who is Asgard to claim authority over Earth?”

Loki wanted to roll his eyes. They had discussed this yesterday.

“Nearly two millennia ago, Earth was invaded by the people of Jötunheim, and Asgard took ownership of Earth to extend its protection to it. My father thought it best to let you develop without outside influence, so Asgard ensured you were not invaded by anyone else.”

“If you’re protecting Earth why did you not interfere during the Second World War? I have heard that some of the worst weapons used by the group Hydra were extra-terrestrial in origin. Of course at the time no one would have believed that, but now that we know you exist…”

“Odin wanted you to be left alone,” repeated Loki, “How you decide to interact with each other, by killing and colonising or however you do it, is up to you. Asgard had no real interest in becoming your minders. All species have to grow up someday, learn from their own mistakes and do better, or in some cases, worse.”

“But now you need something from us, you bend the rules, so to speak,” said Russia with fake affability.

“From what I’ve smelt in your air you need something from us too,” said Berach coolly.

“Yes, you have already mentioned this… Reset will undo the effects of Global Warming but the point remains, if you cannot perform your magic trick here, then you will get nothing from the Convergence. Yet why should we open our doors to you for the promise of something that is not necessarily something that is unnatural?”

Loki had a moment to enjoy Berach’s bulging eyes as he obviously swallowed a lot of snarky retorts to this idea. Luckily Sigyn spoke first,

“If Global Warming is not caused by humans, then our ritual will do nothing. If it is caused by humans, and is therefore not a natural increase in temperature, the ritual will give visible results. Your polar ice caps will grow back to a size they were in the past, you will find there will be less volatile weather in places that before recent times never experienced it.”

Russia tilted his head from side to side as if weighing her words,

“But I fail to see how we get equal recompense from this exchange. From my part, you stand to benefit far more than us, and you will be gaining access to our world when we have no means of going to yours.”

“That can be a part of the deal we eke out here and now,” said Sigyn, “I know that Queen Aetril and Prince Berach are willing to share more environmentally friendly technology, and Svartalfheim is going to provide you with better technology for transport, both within the bounds of Earth and out in Space-”

“And what about your world?” asked Russia shrewdly. Loki had the feeling that the other countries were happy to let him talk and ask questions that they wanted answers to. “What can Vanaheim offer Earth?”

Sigyn’s mouth opened and then closed, her cheeks flushing red, but the rest of her face going pale. Loki opened his mouth to divert the conversation, when Prince Byleist spoke.

“Vanaheim is the land of abundance. They know more about fertility, in animals or plants, than any other realm present. Yet unlike this world which is growing top heavy and has wildly unequal disparity of food, Vanaheim can ensure that nowhere goes hungry. It is said that the Vanir can make anything grow anywhere. Surely that would be of some value to you? I know it is to my people.”

There was a soft murmur, though that might have been because Byleist had not spoken before at the table. He looked odd to Loki being so much smaller than usual, but his skin seemed to glow under the lights of the room. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him under the hot glare. Sigyn smiled again and nodded,

“There are many ways in which we can engage in fair trade between our worlds. As for freedom of movement, it is not as free as you might believe. Until a couple of years ago, Asgard was the only realm with free reign to go between the worlds with ease. That is now changing in light of recent events and we would be more than happy to involve you in that change.”

“The chair recognises Saudi Arabia.”

“You speak of great generosity, but you could easily just disappear as soon as you get what you want. And moreover, how can we be sure that this… seeder is true? For all we know, you could be trying to invade us and this is a way to do it?”

There’s an odd moment, then Loki leans forward,

“You have no global defense system, you’re technologically inferior and you can’t agree on anything. To me asking you to attend these meetings only to invade you seems excessively convoluted.”

A couple of the delegates tried to hide their amusement. Saudi Arabia looked insulted. Sverrir was checking his phone again.

**~*~**

Steve thought the whole thing was going ok. It made sense that there was a lot of suspicion, he himself was still a bit nervous about the whole thing and he knew Thor.

During the buffet lunch that was served at midday, Steve patrolled the room, his eyes sweeping for any dangers. Or at least that was what he was supposed to be doing. His eyes kept being drawn over to Queen Sigyn and King Loki. Thor had told him that Loki remembered him, and Steve was tempted to go over and greet them. Yet he did not want to do anything that would cause either of the monarchs discomfort if their marriage was rocky at the moment.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Natasha sing-songed in his ear as she came up behind him. Steve looked at her in confusion, “You’ve been staring at that Queen Sigyn the whole time you’ve been in here.”

“I have not!” Steve grimaced as the words left his mouth. That might as well have been a confession.

“Why don’t you go over and say hello?” asked Natasha.

“Uh, you do remember she’s married to Thor’s brother, who is standing near her?”

Natasha shrugged,

“Thor said they were having problems.”

“So?”

“So… I really wanna watch you try to flirt with an alien queen and see if you blush as hard as you did when Amy from R n’ D was hitting on you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” lied Steve.

“Sure. Anyway, go and talk to her, see if she remembers you.” Natasha jabbed him with her finger in the back, but Steve turned away.

“Bathroom,” he said, knowing it was just an excuse and he could feel Natasha’s amused gaze follow him out of the hall.

Standing at the urinal, Steve dropped his head back, feeling stiff from standing around so much, and wondered what would happen if he did walk over to Queen Sigyn or King Loki. He was sure that King Loki would have told Queen Sigyn about him, so she would not be startled, and he wondered if him reminding her of her wedding day might help mend their rift. Thor had not elaborated on the situation, not even when his friends, who Steve had always found very nosy and interfering, had pestered him. He had mentioned that Vanaheim had been invaded and was now trying to rebuild, with Queen Sigyn as their new leader.

“-just in here? Thank you I just -oh!”

Steve glanced over his shoulder. It was King Loki’s aide, Sverrir and he looked slightly confused as he looked around. Steve didn’t speak, following the unsaid but sacred rule that no man engages in small talk with anyone while pissing. Sverrir crossed the room to stand at the next urinal, glanced around, then Steve heard him fumble with his clothes.

“Pissing against a wall that’s actually built for it… interesting,” Sverrir muttered. Steve kept his eyes on the wall. “So what’s your job around here?”

“Uh, security,” said Steve, glad he was nearly done. He had never liked using the public toilets back when he had been smaller and skinnier, and that dislike had not changed with his transformation. It was awkward to be near other men doing something so… distasteful. He had managed to suppress this anxiety during the war out of necessity, but back in civilisation, he would rather just use a private bathroom.

He gave himself a quick shake, then tucked himself away and did up his fly, going straight for the sink. Sverrir whistled tunelessly as he pissed, then called out,

“Seen anything to worry about?”

“Nothing so far sir,” said Steve.

“Good. Though all things considered I doubt anything you could throw at my king could hurt him,” said Sverrir in amusement.

“If you say so,” said Steve neutrally, drying his hands and heading for the door.

“I do say so! I mean, he had his arm bitten off by a wolf and he regrew it with his magic,” said Sverrir. That made Steve pause and he turned back,

“Seriously?”

“Mmhm!” Sverrir grinned at him over his shoulder and then started whistling again. Feeling like he had just experienced a prank that he hadn’t figured out yet, Steve left the bathroom and bumped into a woman coming out of the ladies. 

“Oh! Sorry ma’am!” Steve grabbed her elbow automatically, most people who bumped into him ended up on their asses these days. Tony had done it five times by now. The woman, however, barely reacted when she collided with him, but flinched violently when he touched her. Only then did Steve realise he had crashed into Queen Sigyn. “Sorry your majesty,” Steve said hurriedly. Queen Sigyn said nothing, she was staring at him with huge eyes, her mouth slightly open in shock. Steve’s gaze dropped to her lips for a moment, then back to her eyes.

“Are you ok, Queen Sigyn?”

Queen Sigyn gave herself a shake and dislodged Steve’s hand on her arm.

“I just… you look like someone I met once… but you can’t be him. He’d be an old man by now.” Her voice was faint, she seemed to be reeling and Steve realised that King Loki had not told her about him. Well, shit.

“I… Actually I am the guy you think I am. I mean, I’m Steve Rogers, Captain America. We met before, back in the 40’s. You and King Loki won the Jitterbug contest.” Steve thought it wise not to mention the other thing right now.

“How is this possible?” she asked sharply. Her face was pale and she looked very alarmed.

“It-It’s a long story, the short version of which is that I was frozen for nearly 80 years. I’d only been unfrozen a little while after Thor first arrived on Earth.”

“You know Thor?” she demanded.

“Yes ma’am, we work together.” Steve was starting to get nervous. Sigyn was clearly not happy to see him, her eyes darting everywhere as if assessing his threat level. “Thor told me you and King Loki wanted to keep your marriage a secret, none of the delegates know about that, and I certainly won’t mention it.”

This only seemed to make Sigyn even more alarmed.

“You… how does Thor know?”

King Loki hadn’t told her that either? Shit, shit, shit. Steve glanced around, looking for an out, a way to end this conversation, but Queen Sigyn had curled her fingers into his bicep and gripped hard enough to actually hurt.

“Answer me,” she hissed.

“Thor saw the picture from the night I met the two of you, it was in a newspaper article, and it mentioned you’d gotten married. I think Thor was just surprised that you two were together at all.”

“Because he assumed I belonged to him,” Queen Sigyn spat. Her eyes searched his face as if judging him, and Steve stared back, unsure how to verbally reassure this woman he was not about to blab about her relationship history.

“Uh…”

Sverrir had emerged from the bathroom and was observing them nervously.

“Queen Sigyn, is something wrong?”

Sigyn looked at him and Steve saw Sverrir straighten his back a little more.

“I need a word with your king, now.”

“Yes your majesty,” said Sverrir, ducking around them and hurrying back to the food hall. Sigyn slowly uncurled her fingers from around Steve’s bicep and stared at him again. Steve cleared his throat,

“Your majesty, I won’t tell anyone what I know. As far as I’m concerned it’s no one’s business but yours and King Loki’s.” He debated mentioning that thanks to Thor all of SHIELD knew about them, but considering how angry she looked, he decided not to risk it. It was not his responsibility, nor his business. King Loki ought to have kept Queen Sigyn informed.

“Sigyn?”

King Loki had emerged with Sverrir, and he quickly looked alarmed as he took in the two of them. Queen Sigyn turned to King Loki, her expression almost vicious.

“I think you and I need to have a conversation, Loki.”

King Loki flinched at the way she spat his name, then strode across the hall and inclined his head to Steve, showing no flicker of surprise,

“I’m glad to see you survived your war Captain.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Steve, not wanting to get into a debate about it not being ‘his’ war. Not when he could feel the anger rolling off the queen like the charge in the air that promised a thunderstorm. “I think there’s a room down there you can have your conversation in.”

The two monarchs swept away without a backwards look, and Sverrir smiled at Steve.

“Don’t feel bad, they’re always on edge these days.”

Steve gave him a curious look, and Sverrir lean in,

“We both know what they are to each other, or were, right?”

Steve nodded. Sverrir grinned,

“Good!”

“Thor said they were in trouble,” said Steve.

“I suppose that’s what watching more than half your global population bombed and slaughtered by invading soldiers will do,” said Sverrir casually. Steve’s stomach gave a horrified lurch,

“H-how many is half?”

“Five billion people,” said Sverrir, still in that casual voice, but Steve could hear the anger underneath. “From what I understand the leader wanted to enslave them and turn them into mindless soldiers, and turn the queen into his sex slave.” He gave a vicious grin, “Happily she hacked his head off.”

“A-and are they represented here?”

“The Svartalfr, the ones with the blue tattoos. Queen Sigyn has them cowed, but she’s been clever about it. If she had crushed them, they would have been able to justify rebellion against her, but instead she has allowed them to function as a respectable realm, and only demanded the barest of retribution, which has included forcing them to recognise what they have done. This makes it so much harder for them to be angry about it, and so Sigyn uses their shame to keep them from trying to do any more harm.”

“Smart,” said Steve unable to come up with a better reply. He thought back to how Germany had been humiliated and crushed after the First World War, and that had led to the Second. After that, from what Steve had learned, the Germans had been shamed, rather than heavily humiliated, and that had been a much more effective way to prevent the same thing from happening again. Instead Germany had risen beautifully to the challenge and was now a country that Steve personally thought America could learn a fair bit from.

Actually, at the moment there were a lot of countries America could stand to learn from these days.

“Do you know why I’m telling you this?” asked Sverrir. Steve shook his head. “It’s because I’ve been doing research on you Captain America. I think you could have some popular influence on this situation. But from my research, you’re more interested in right than might.”

“How exactly have you done this research?” asked Steve, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, before we came here Loki told me you had significance, and we were able to access your internet to gather information on your world, so we could prepare for these meetings. So I looked into you, and… quite frankly I liked what I saw.”

“I can’t make this meeting go your way,” said Steve with a shake of his head.

“No, but you can give your public support. I think you’ll be surprised how much that would help.”

Steve frowned at him, waiting for the man to say more. Sverrir sighed and tilted his head back,

“Look. There’s no downside for Midgard with this alliance, especially in regards to the Convergence. More importantly, Vanaheim _needs_ this. They need help recovering from the devastation Malekith rained down on them, or they will start to starve, and even with all the help of Asgard, Alfheim and the other realms, it won’t be enough. The Reset could save billions of people.”

“And what does Asgard get out of this?” asked Steve curiously. He knew politics always meant you had to look out for your own team.

“Asgard gets very little out of it,” said Sverrir, now speaking in a low voice, “Loki might not even get a wife out of it, that’s between him and Sigyn. This isn’t about Asgard for me.”

“So what is it about?”

Sverrir eyed Steve carefully, then said in a low voice,

“Loki doesn’t know what I know about what Vanaheim did for so many Asgardians, and how many of them have suffered without it. Without Vanaheim, I would not have my wife, and without her I wouldn’t have my children. Vanaheim gave me a purpose, before I had my family I was drifting aimlessly. I can tell you that even though Asgard is not nearly as populated as the rest of the realms, it still has enough people that Vanaheim used to help, and when it was gone, there were people suffering.”

“Are you saying King Loki doesn’t take care of his people?” asked Steve.

“No, Loki takes care of the people he knows about, and I hope that in the future he will be able to help the people I’m talking about. But his changes in laws have already pushed Asgard to the edge, if he tries to bring these people into the light he will only put them in danger. They’re safer in the shadows for now, but Vanaheim could help them if they were able to recover. In fact, Vanaheim could help the same sort of people here on Midgard.”

“And what sort of people are they?” asked Steve. Sverrir squinted at him, then shook his head,

“Sorry but I’m not ready to say that. I haven’t even told Loki about them, and he’s my best friend. Just know that my research has shown me that there are many, many people in your world who could be helped by Vanaheim, if Vanaheim were to recover quickly.”

“And this Reset will, what, make everything go back to how it was?”

“No. Nothing can undo the devastation, but it can be healed. There’s a difference.”

Steve wanted to believe that this man had nothing but altruistic intentions, but there was an inner voice that sounded like Natasha telling him to be cleverer than that.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally. Sverrir shrugged,

“Fair enough.” He pulled out the phone and swiped the screen, then beamed, “Twenty thousand followers! Yippee!” He practically bounced his way back into the hall. Steve watched him go with a reluctant grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no real idea how the UN works, so apologies if it’s in accurate to the usual method of practise, but I could probably spend a lot of time researching for something that really isn’t massively crucial to the story, which would just make it take even longer to write. I will still do my best to make the politics realistic as I can –hence why I decided to use real politicians for the discussion, even if I didn’t name them. 
> 
> Will Sverrir start a Twitter War with a certain presidential candidate? Maybe. I just loved the idea that Sverrir would gel with Social Media instantly. I’m sure it’s pretty obvious what kind of people Sverrir is looking out for, but I wanted to keep it unsaid for a while. 
> 
> Getting the Avengers to naturally cross paths with our monarchs is very tricky, but I thought it was high time that they start. I’m excited to start this next phase of Loki and Sigyn’s development that will come from their interactions with the Avengers, especially Steve. 
> 
> Also, a question for you all, are there any creatures (or other things) you’d like to see Loki or Sigyn turn into? I’ve got a shapeshifting sequence planned for a future chapter, and I’d like to be as creative as possible with it. They can be imaginary or extinct, just leave a comment and I’ll see if I can work it in.


	30. Reach So Close

As soon as Sigyn closed the door, she cast a spell to encircle them in a bubble that would keep all noise and action contained. No one would know what was happening. Which was extremely unsettling when she looked ready to murder Loki. Loki quickly put the couch in the middle of the room between them. Sigyn followed and sat down on the couch, her eyes fixed on his face. She looked so angry she might have been beyond speech. Loki bit his lip then said softly,

“I should have told you.”

Sigyn said nothing. Loki dropped his gaze,

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep it a secret, it just slipped my mind because we were so busy… every time it occurred to me it was at the wrong time, like when I’d put the boys to bed. I’d plan to tell you in the morning, but by then something else would come up.”

Sigyn only glared at him, and somehow it made him feel worse than if she had screamed at him.

“Say something.”

Sigyn turned her face away, looking out the window where they could see a fine garden. Loki sat down next to her, wanting to touch her, but he knew it would not be welcome. He also knew she was perfectly justified in being angry with him. He sighed heavily,

“I have no excuse. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

Sigyn nodded, passing her hand over her eyes. Loki noticed that her hand was trembling. He swallowed and looked at his hands folded in his lap.

“What can I do to make this right?”

It took a while for Sigyn to move, and when she did she drew herself up before turning to face him.

“You will not interfere.”

“What?”

“You will give me your word that you will not interfere or display any jealousy when I talk to other men.”

“I don’t-”

“Do you really think I can’t see the seething anger in your face whenever I talk to Byleist? If you want to make this blunder right, you will pull yourself together and stop acting like a jilted lover whenever I speak to other men.”

Loki snapped his mouth shut, swallowed a hundred things he wanted to say, then nodded stiffly. Sigyn searched his face for a few minutes, then nodded.

“Good. Now, how much does Thor know?”

Loki’s hands tightened around each other and he looked away,

“He found the boxes you stored here, opened them and saw the recordings of our time together. He knows about Angrboda and my children, and how much you helped me recover. He followed our path around this world to grow and learn, to try to become a better man through our example… and I honestly think he succeeded.”

Sigyn had gone white.

“Your brother stole my property, invaded my privacy, and you have the gall to say that he benefitted from it?”

“No, that isn’t what I meant. I’m not happy about the fact that he did it either! It was my privacy he invaded too –why did you even hide those things here?”

“To keep them safe! I was about to go on a global tour of my realm to win everyone onto my side, to prove myself a capable heir, and I didn’t want to risk the few things I’d collected being found because I was gone too long. It was safer and easier to keep it all safe on Midgard. Clearly I underestimated your brother’s nosiness.”

“Thor wanted answers, he had just lost Mjölnir and the Bifröst had rained down-”

“Meanwhile I was watching Malekith rain fire down on my home. Forgive me for not feeling sympathetic. So what does Thor intend to do with this knowledge?”

“Do? He –he doesn’t want to do anything with it.”

“Who else knows?”

Loki sighed but answered,

“I believe his friends know, and the organisation they work with known as SHIELD, though Thor said that they were not overly interested in the information.”

“And you believed them?” demanded Sigyn.

“What do you think is going to happen?” asked Loki in frustration. “Vanaheim already knows, that’s what your projection of Ljúfvina said, and Berach and Aetril figured it out.”

“It’s one thing to know we were lovers, but another to know we ran off to another planet to get married!”

“You said it yourself it wouldn’t be recognised by anyone outside of Midgard.”

“It doesn’t matter! It was an emotional commitment, it will ruin any chances I have of getting a good ally for Vanaheim.”

“Why do you have to get an ally through marriage? Moreover, Asgard would be a good ally!”

“Just because you’re able to do what you like, because Asgard has stayed on top for so long, doesn’t mean the rest of us are so privileged,” Sigyn spat.

“Believe me Sigyn, I am not able to do what I like, because if I could, we would never have had to hide our relationship.”

“Don’t give me that! You loved the fact that it was a secret. You loved the way we were tricking everyone –well we weren’t! My Ey knew all about it, they covered for me and I never knew until –until just before they…” Sigyn chin trembled and Loki could see that she was fighting a sudden onslaught of emotion. A muscle twitched in her cheek, and Loki reached out, trying to make it stop by brushing the back of his fingers against her skin. Sigyn leapt to her feet, hissing in anger, “For goodness sake Loki!”

“I’m sorry! I just want to help.”

“Well you aren’t! You just make it harder! Being around you makes everything harder –but you don’t care about that! You just want to get your way, regardless of how much that will hurt me, or hurt my realm.”

“No, I don’t!” Loki snapped, jumping to his feet and grabbing her by the elbow so she was looking at him. “I am not the villain in this, I never was. I’m sorry if being around me is hard for you, but let’s be honest here, you’re causing most of the pain yourself.”

Sigyn blanched and she ripped her arm from his grip.

“You-”

“If you didn’t still feel love for me it wouldn’t be so hard for you,” said Loki curtly. Sigyn glared at him,

“So it’s my fault? Not yours for never, ever leaving me alone. You forget that I know you better than anyone else in the realms, so I know that every time you have acted as if you are merely my ally or my friend, you’re hoping to get on my good side so you can manipulate me into letting you get close again. Everything you have done since you came to Vanaheim has been about you trying to fit me back into a box that I will never go back into willingly.”

“What was so bad about being with me that you now have to deny it so hard?”

“Have you not been listening? I’ve already told you so many times.”

“Our relationship was not the reason Malekith invaded Vanaheim!”

“No, but it was the reason I was not ready for him, it was the reason Yggdrasil tried to torture me into surrendering my throne, why he murdered my Svana and my Ey!” Sigyn was shaking with rage, and it seemed only a thread of self-restraint was keeping her from launching herself at him and trying to pummel him.

“No it wasn’t! Has it ever occurred to you that our relationship and all the work we did, studying seiðr, exploring other cultures, sneaking around the worlds, that is why you survived the onslaught? You learned with me how to use your strengths, how to think for yourself, who you were and that, that drive that pushed us onwards, is what got you through it.”

Sigyn scoffed and turned away, and that was how Loki knew he had gotten to her. That was how she always reacted when he had defeated an argument of hers.

“So you get to be my saviour? Is that what you’re hoping? That you can manipulate my thoughts so that I think instead of my feelings for you being the reason everyone died, they actually managed to save the rest of my people from the same fate?”

“I’m not saying either of those things, you are Sigyn. All I’m trying to say is that if you had let them control you the way they tried, you would have been worse off when you needed to fight back. Look at me!” He reached out and cupped the side of Sigyn’s head, forcing her to look at him, “You made a choice Sigyn, a choice to go out in the realms and actually try to be more than a pretty face. You didn’t spend time looking out the window wishing you had something more, you just went and took it. You learned how to be someone with the strength to pull herself out of the worst situation I can imagine and not only did you survive, you destroyed your enemy and found the compassion not to take revenge on them. I couldn’t have done that-”

“You know you could have and you’d have figured it out faster than me because you were always better than me,” Sigyn shouted and her fist lashed out, only to retract just before it made contact. “Damn you Loki why are you so determined to break me? Why are you so desperate to get back a terrible relationship that was eating us both up that you have to blindside me with men who should be dead, right when I need every bit of self-control?”

“I never set out to-”

“You knew how I’d react to the truth about Thor, and about Captain Rogers! Don’t lie to me that you just forgot, because I know you didn’t. Things like this don’t just slip your mind when you can remember every slight ever given to you. You knew how it would affect me, and you were hoping that seeing Rogers would remind me of that day, the day we walking into that City Hall in New York, made vows and then danced the night away.”

Loki opened his mouth to deny this, but he found the words did not ring completely true and he closed it again. Sigyn wiped at her face, as if banishing tears,

“Damn you Loki,” she hissed again, “What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone? You make me feel like the invasion isn’t over, that I got rid of two cretins who wanted to dominate and claim me, and another took their place.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to those bastards!” Loki roared. 

“Then why don’t you stop trying to wear me down the way they did!” she snapped.

“I’m not trying to, but I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. I just want to help-”

“You want to win me over, you don’t really care about my people, about anything other than looking good so I’ll fall at your feet. That will never happen!”

“I want to be at your side, not have you at my feet. I never wanted that,” said Loki, reaching out and curling his hand around the side of her head. “Sigyn, please. Please let me in. I won’t make you weak, and I won’t make you prop me up. I know I asked too much of you time and again, but I swear I never wanted you to feel this kind of pain and feel like you had no one to turn to.” His eyes burned with tears, emotions overwhelming him. Sigyn stared at him, her own eyes damp, emotions other than anger beginning to form.

“Loki stop, please stop…” she begged, her lower lip trembling. Loki knew he was causing her pain, but he did not know what else to do. This war between them was only hurting them both, no matter how much Sigyn told herself that she was doing the right thing for her people. She had shut down so many of her strengths to ‘be better’ but when things were settled and her people no longer having to just survive…

Loki cupped her face in his hands, revelling in her warmth, the sheer feel of her skin against his.

“I’m here Sigyn. I’m right here.”

“No… please, I can’t!” she sobbed, pushing at his chest. Loki held on, terrified if he let her go now, she would be lost to him forever.

“Yes, you can, don’t be afraid. I’ve got you, you’re safe with me.”

Sigyn let out a miserable noise, like a wounded animal, and she stopped trying to push him away, her fists opening and fingertips digging into his chest. Hope flooded Loki’s being and he started to pull her in so he could hold her-

“Queen Sigyn?”

They both froze at the knock on the door and the soft call of Sigyn’s aide, save for the faintest tremble in their tense limbs. The woman knocked again,

“Queen Sigyn? I’m sorry my queen but the discussions are about to resume… are you in there?”

Loki wanted to rage at the woman, but he was too focused on Sigyn, watching in despair as her expression became blank and her eyes hard.

“No…” he whispered, “No, Sigyn, please don’t shut me out again.”

Too late, she was pulling away from him, pushing his slackening hands off her. She wiped her face and turned away.

“I’m coming,” she called in a steady voice. She gave Loki a cold, dark look,

“Unless you wish to discuss with me something of importance regarding our realms, don’t come near me Loki.”

Loki wanted to asked ‘or what?’ but he was feeling too defeated. He had been so close…

Sigyn turned away and left the room, taking all the warmth of her seiðr with her. Loki sank down onto the arm of the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“Loki?”

Loki did not react to Sverrir’s call, but when his friend put his arm around his shoulders, he did not push it off, instead turning slightly into him.

“I was so close Sverrir, she nearly let me in…”

Sverrir heaved a deep sigh and squeezed his shoulder. He did not reassure Loki that all would be well, but gave his silent support and comfort.


	31. A New Connection

Steve stared at the small, handwritten note he had found in his jacket that had definitely not been there an hour ago. He quickly folded it and put it away, lest Natasha come up and quiz him about it. He was not sure what it meant, so he wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Still it was hard to keep his mind on his job for the rest of the day. Then he had to get through dinner without looking impatient as politicians talked to him about how their parents or grandparents had been big fans of his back in the 40’s.

Did no one realise that he had acclimatised to the modern world? That he might want to talk about things that were relevant now? But no, everyone just wanted to talk about him fighting Nazis like they talked about the most recent episode of Game of Thrones. There were some people who were concerned about trends in the US and other places that were similar to history’s view on the 40’s, and Steve was happy to talk about those concerns, since he shared them. He had lived through one era where fascism had torn the world apart, he did not want to see another.

Finally, 10pm rolled around and Steve walked as casually as he could to the hotel suite where Queen Sigyn was staying. He had a pretty good idea what she wanted to meet about, but he was not especially thrilled at the idea that he was about to be threatened to keep his mouth shut about something he was already determined to keep quiet about. When he reached the door he automatically smoothed his hair down before knocking.

The door opened seconds later and Queen Sigyn smiled at him,

“Captain Rogers.”

“Queen Sigyn.”

“Come in.” She turned away and he followed her into the suite, closing the door behind him. The suite was nicer than his hotel room by a substantial margin, closer to something Tony would have when he wanted to really remind you how rich he was. Queen Sigyn started pouring him some wine.

“Oh, I, uh, I can’t get drunk, your majesty,” he said automatically, guessing it was the fanciest wine in the world and not wishing her to waste it. Sigyn turned around, holding two glasses, a smile on her lips,

“I’m afraid that this is not wine, it’s an Alfheim juice. I just thought you might like to try something that was grown on another world.”

“Oh, in that case,” Steve took the glass from her, their fingertips brushed and he felt slightly awkward at the way his stomach gave a little flip. Sigyn had done away with her fancy clothes and her hair was down around her shoulders. She still carried a sense of otherworldliness about her, but seemed a lot more approachable in a soft top and bottoms. He raised his glass,

“I dunno if you know what a toast is, but…”

“Oh I know what they are,” she replied with another faint smile. Steve cleared his throat and raised his glass slightly.

“Well then, to new friends!”

Their glasses met and cracked.

“Damn, sorry!” Steve exclaimed, cupping his hand under the glass to catch any leaks. Sigyn hummed and moved her hand over the two glasses, an almost lazy gesture. The cracks vanished at once. Steve could not stop his jaw from dropping.

“Wow!” He held his glass up to his eye line, looking at it in fascination. “So that –that was real magic you just did? I mean, obviously but… wow!” He grinned like a silly schoolboy at the glass, then noticed Sigyn watching him with a curious expression. It was almost wistful.

“Yes, real seiðr. Not too complicated if you have the capability.”

“So it’s something innate? Not something you can just learn?”

“Seiðr varies from species to species, but humans don’t seem to have a lot of natural inclination. That doesn’t mean you cannot learn it, but I imagine it would be very difficult.”

“I have heard of a few guys who can do magic, but I’ve never seen it before.”

“Really?” Sigyn arched an eyebrow, sipping from her glass.

“Yeah. In fact I’m kinda surprised they haven’t tried to make contact.”

“Well, given your people’s history when it comes to magic users, perhaps they are being cautious.”

Steve could not argue with that. He followed Sigyn to the couch and noticed as he sat down that she had a nature documentary on mute. A polar bear with her two cubs was walking across the ice. Steve had to repress a shudder at all the ice and he focused on Sigyn. She was resting her chin on the back of her hand, staring with faintly glazed eyes at the TV screen.

“Do you have animals like those on your planet?” he asked. Sigyn blinked and her gaze slid to him like she was coming out of a trance.

“We… used to,” she said slowly, like it was a new fact that she had not become accustomed to. “We may again.”

Steve tried to hide his confusion at this statement by drinking his juice at last. It tasted very odd, sort of like pomegranate, but also like lime. Steve was not sure he really liked it, but considering no one else on Earth had ever drunk this before, he was going to savour it anyway. He wanted to ask directly what the queen wanted from him, but he was not sure how to ask it politely.

“Don’t look so uneasy Captain, I didn’t invite you here to talk about the negotiations.”

“Oh, then, not to be rude, but what did you want to talk to me about?”

Sigyn turned in her seat, curling her legs underneath her and resting her head on her hand.

“You are in a… particular position. You know more about me than almost anyone else alive, by virtue of knowing something that is a secret. Yet you and I have no real history, nor are you a politician. As such I feel you and I could…” she tailed off, looking somewhat confused. Steve waited, curious. Sigyn drew in a deep breath, then spoke again, “I am a queen, I am the protector, the overseer, the one who must make difficult choices for my people. I must be… apart from them, if I am to look after them. I cannot allow myself to get too close, or else I might lose my objectivity.”

Steve thought she sounded like she was justifying this to herself. He sipped his drink, watching her expression shift minutely. If Natasha were here she would have read the queen like an open book. Steve could only guess that she would eventually get to the point.

“Captain, you are… not someone I know. And you do not know me. You are not a rival royal, someone that I must always be cautious with –at least I think that is the case. You strike me as not very interested in duplicitousness, so long as it does not cause anyone, especially your people, harm.”

“Sure,” said Steve, to let her know he was paying attention. A thought occurred to him about what she was getting at, but it seemed utterly ridiculous.

Sigyn traced her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes moving over his face.

“Are you… are you one for… gossip, Captain?”

“Not particularly. I like to know how people I care about are doing, but nothing else. I mean, I wouldn’t let it slip that you and King Loki have a history, if that’s what you’re driving at.”

“And what about… other interactions, other relationships?”

Steve was starting to realise that his hunch was probably correct.

“Ma’am, are you asking me to be your friend?”

Sigyn’s face whitened, then blushed and she looked down at her glass.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never made one before, and I… I cannot have one with a subject.”

“Because you’re above them?”

That made her look up, eyes defiant,

“Because I have to remain objective so I can look after them! I can’t befriend anyone because if their politics clash with another’s then I will appear to be siding with one over the other. If someone thinks I’m failing as a queen, chaos can break out!”

“Chaos? Because you made a friend? That seems a bit extreme doesn’t-”

Sigyn was on her feet so fast Steve did not see her move.

“Don’t talk about something you know nothing about!” She looked livid, well beyond what his words merited. Steve held up his hands peaceably,

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Offend me? Offending someone doesn’t come close to-” Sigyn closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, then dropped down back into her seat. “I’m sorry, I should not have reacted that way.”

There was a moment where Steve stared at her, stunned at the speed of her mood shift. Then he said carefully,

“I guess I shouldn’t comment on something I know nothing about.”

“No!” Sigyn turned to look at him again, “I don’t want you to think… to feel as if you cannot be honest with me about you opinions.”

They stared at each other, then Sigyn buried her face in her hands,

“Just go Captain, this was a stupid notion. All I ask is that you don’t tell anyone about my stupidity.”

“Wait a second, hold on,” said Steve, setting his glass down. “I didn’t say no.”

“Please just go,” she repeated, sounding close to tears. Steve hesitated, he did not want to leave her like this.

“Ma’am… Sigyn… please.” He reached out a hesitant hand and rested it on her shoulder. She startled violently and grabbed his wrist, twisting it. Steve could not stop the howl of pain as she snapped the bone. He pulled his hand to his chest, half in agony, half astonished that she had managed to do something no Nazi or Dr Doom or anyone else had.

“Oh no! I’m sorry.” Sigyn’s hands covered her mouth, her eyes wide in horror.

“It –It’s ok,” he said through gritted teeth. He knew an instinctive reaction when he saw it, but the pain was intense. It had been a long time since he had broken a bone.

“Here, I can fix it.” Sigyn reached out tentatively, her expression distraught. Steve had to force himself not to flinch as she coaxed his wrist away from his chest. She wrapped her hands around it very gently and her brow furrowed as if in concentration. Steve opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing when he felt a soothing warmth spread through his wrist, right down to the broken bone. The pain vanished at once and yet it was not numbed, he could still feel everything, including the motion of the bones as they moved back into place and fused together. A minute later, Sigyn lifted her top hand away and examined his wrist carefully. Steve stared at her in disbelief.

“Did you just… was that magic?”

“Yes,” said Sigyn shortly, still examining his wrist, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s ok, really, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

Sigyn did not seem to want to stop examining his wrist, just so she could avoid looking at his face. Steve turned his hand and took hers, squeezing gently,

“Sigyn, I’m ok, it was an accident. Plus, you just healed me with real, honest to God magic. I’m gonna call it even.”

Sigyn looked up at him and it struck Steve that she might be of a comparable age to him. Certainly she looked a lot younger without all the getup.

“How old are you?” he asked quietly. Sigyn tilted her head and smiled slightly,

“I thought Human men didn’t like to know the age of women. For some reason it makes them uncomfortable.”

Steve shrugged, “It’s considered impolite to ask a lady her age.”

“Why?”

“I guess because… they might feel we think they’re old.”

“And why is that a bad thing? Aren’t human men proud of their age, the experience it provides them and the adventures that are behind them? Surely women should be able to feel the same pride?”

Steve considered and sighed,

“I guess its men who make a big deal of ladies’ ages. An old maid is not exactly a flattering description.”

“Maybe you’re afraid that if she’s too old, she’ll see through you and have more experience than you. Your kind do seem very preoccupied with ‘purity’ among women. Maybe it’s because if they know nothing, you don’t have to try very hard to seem like an ideal mate.” Sigyn smiled slightly as she spoke, however Steve could not help but sigh.

“You probably have a point there, but I don’t like to think that I’m like that. I just wondered… you don’t seem that much older than me.”

“Well, how old are you?”

“I was born 4th July 1918.” When Sigyn raised her eyebrows, he realised that the date probably meant nothing to her. “I was born 98 years ago, but I spent 70 years frozen, so my biological age is 31.”

“If I remember rightly that age is considered the prime of male life.”

“Yeah, something like that.” He looked at her and flashed a grin, “So, I’ve told you mine, you tell me yours.”

Sigyn hummed, brushing his wrist with her thumb.

“By your count I am about one thousand and 50 years, but it’s a bit complicated. Our year is longer than yours, and telling you my age in years probably doesn’t tell you my equivalence. You don’t really want to know the number of years, so much as what my age is in terms of maturity. Am I older or younger than you in spite of how many years I’ve lived?”

“… If you want to put it like that.”

She smiled, a warm thing that made Steve blush slightly. He was very aware of her stroking his wrist, but it felt nice, and he did not want to break the moment.

“Let me tell you a secret, Captain-”

“Steve.”

“… Steve. Let me tell you a secret Steve. Once my people and those of Asgard, we had lifespans similar to yours. And then we discovered a way to slow the aging process.”

“Thor said you were immortal.”

“Immortality is not the same as slowing the aging process. What’s the point of living longer, if you spend more and more time in an old body that struggles to carry you around? But here’s the thing. The ability to slow aging only really starts after puberty. So we age at the similar rate that humans do, from birth to physical maturity, but then we just… stop.” She looked strangely sad as she said this.

“Is that not good? I mean you get to stay young for a long time.”

“It is. But when you consider the fact that we grow as you do, and then we suddenly stop. I mean, childhood is so short and… sometimes it feels like you’re stuck between being a child and being an adult. That’s what it was for me anyway. I couldn’t learn a craft or skill and get a job, I couldn’t go out and make friends. I just… I had to exist for the satisfaction of others.” Her eyes drifted out of focus and her head tilted away. Steve watched as so many emotions drifted over her face, he could not read them. Then she blinked and came back to him, smiling.

“I think you’d put me at somewhere in early adulthood, so possibly slightly younger than you.”

“Barely grown and running a planet. I thought I was doing ok with running the Avengers in my mid-twenties.”

“What are the Avengers?”

Steve started to talk about the Avengers, what they did and what each member was like. He breezed past Thor’s involvement because he guessed she wouldn’t like to know anything about him right now. Still she seemed enraptured with his tales. Soon they had drunk all the Alfheim juice and Steve was telling her about the time when he and Tony had gotten locked in a room with no way out.

“Honestly I thought I would punch his lights out after half an hour.” Steve chuckled now, remembering how angry he had been at the time. “He decided to fill the silence with every thought that came into his head, it was non-stop noise!”

Sigyn giggled behind her hand, looking relaxed and sleepy. Steve was similarly relaxed, leaning back in his chair and feeling more comfortable than he had in a long time. Sigyn was easy to talk to, she listened and asked just enough questions to reassure him that she was listening. Steve stretched and picked up his phone. It read 2:35am.

“Geez! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise it was so late. I should go.” He set his glass on the table and stood up. Sigyn started slightly and straightened up.

“Oh… yes of course. I didn’t mean to keep you…” She stood up, and it struck Steve that she did not really want him to leave. The thought made him a little nervous, but he decided not to let it bother him too much. Sigyn had said she wanted a friend, so he would take her at her word.

“Next time I want you to do most of the talking. I want to know about being an alien princess.”

Sigyn smiled, slightly strained, “I can’t say I’ll be able to answer what it’s like to be an alien, after all, to me you are the alien.”

“Well, a princess of a world I’ve never seen then,” said Steve with a grin. Sigyn nodded, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I think I can do that.”

Steve started to offer his hand to shake, but he second guessed the gesture halfway through and swung his hand behind his back.

“Well, goodnight.”

“Good night… Steve.”


	32. New Actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's alternative title was "Participation, Connection, Masturbation" :P

Thor had never watched so much news since he had arrived on Midgard, but this was something he had a vested interest in. He watched his brother charm the delegates of the UN, just as he always had in the past. Yet there was a distinctly kingly way Loki did it now, as if he knew his place in the universe and he was comfortable on it. Thor knew from his talks with Loki that his brother did not really feel such comfort on the throne, but he conveyed it well.

The other delegates were also interesting. Thor had never really paid them much mind, expecting that they would all bow to him the way they had bowed to Odin. Yet now, he saw how they worked with Loki in a cooperative effort and he found it far more attractive than their grudging submission to Odin.

It was all he and his friends could talk about, both Aesir and human. The crossing of their worlds made for lively discussion. Bruce was particularly excited about the familiar look of some of the delegates.

“Why are they all bipedal? Why is it that we all share such similar outer body structures? It can’t just be because it’s the best design, evolution doesn’t work like that. Even the idea that panspermia is behind it doesn’t explain it!”

Thor explained that the Aesir and Vanir shared a common ancestor, that they had broken apart many millennia ago, but for the rest he could not account for. He wondered if Loki knew, but somehow thought it unlikely. Loki’s interest was magic, not science, though the two subjects were undoubtedly siblings, they were still distinctly different. He did not think Loki had ever shown an interest in such things. Thor wondered if Loki would let him take Jörmungandr to a dinosaur museum someday. The boy would probably be very interested in the creatures.

Hogun was uneasy with the talks. He had taken Thor’s news about Vanaheim as stoically as he did everything else, but he was clearly unhappy. Strangely Hogun did not seem to like the fact that Sigyn was now queen any more than Sif did, and he tended to agree with Sif’s vocal complaints about how Sigyn was starting to let her desperation for the deal to show through.

“The humans will smell it like a predator smells blood,” he said darkly.

“Maybe, but I can’t say I blame her for being desperate if even half of what Loki told Thor was true,” said Fandral, chopping vegetables on the island of their kitchen.

“She should be conducting herself like an actual queen,” said Sif, her fingers linked with Brock’s on the arm he had around her shoulders. “You would never see Frigga acting so desperate.”

“My mother has never been in the kind of situation Sigyn’s been in,” said Thor. “She’s been through many trials, but nothing like what Vanaheim was put through.”

“She ought to have made the Svartalfar rebuild Vanaheim, enslaved them until they had repaid their debt. It’s what Odin would have done,” said Sif shortly.

“And what happens when the Svartalfar rise up and fight back? Are they just meant to keep fighting until they destroy each other?” demanded Thor irritably. He was sick of Sif’s irrational dislike for Sigyn. He knew it was not just mere jealousy now, it might have begun that way, but over the years they had grown into women who were probably too alike in the wrong ways and completely different in the wrong ways. It was a mutual loathing, one that had amused Thor as a younger man, but now he found it nothing more than an annoyance at best and outright ridiculous at worst.

“I don’t think some of the UN delegates are all that pleased to be dealing with a woman,” said Volstagg, eating popcorn as he watched the latest news summary of the day of negotiations. “Not that any of them would admit it, but look at what’s happening here in this land with the presidential election.”

“Maybe that’s why Loki and Prince Berach have done more and more of the talking over the past few days,” said Fandral. Thor nodded, he had noticed that Berach and Loki seemed to have taken the lead, while Sigyn had become quieter, looking strained and anxious. Luckily the negotiations seemed to be going in the right directions, but how much the alien realms would have to give was still under question.

Fandral’s phone beeped and he swiped it open, snorting with laughter.

“What?” asked Thor.

“Well, you know the Republican Candidate is a Twitter user.”

“Yeeees,” said Thor slowly, any mention of that man made him nervous these days. The Republican Delegate had said some bizarre things about his brother and the others; that they were a part of a Chinese conspiracy, that they were preparing an invasion to destabilising America’s economy, that he would negotiate a better deal for America alone when he was elected since the current government would be giving away all of America’s freedoms, that Sigyn and Aetril would be demanding that Planned Parenthood be given all the money that currently was spent on industry. It made Thor’s head hurt.

“Well, it would appear that Loki’s chief counsellor, what was his name?”

“Sverrir.”

“Yes! It seems that the two have gotten into a bit of a war of words.”

Thor stared at Fandral for a moment, then grabbed his own phone and tapped out a message to Loki to warn him to stop Sverrir from getting involved in such a thing. It would not help anyone. Even as he sent the text he was certain it would be too late.

As he watched Berach talk, he saw Loki shift slightly in his seat, then reach out and pluck Sverrir’s phone from his fingers without so much as a flicker in his expression. Berach, meanwhile, was frowning up at one of the delegates.

“I’m not certain I understand what you mean,” he said slowly, “You don’t believe magic exists?”

“I’m simply saying that we have no proof of magic’s existence,” said the delegate, “Nothing you have told us is scientific enough to be true, and is too fantastical to be believed.”

“Magic and science are not the same thing,” said Berach, his wings beating slightly in what seemed to be exasperation. “We are not asking you to be overly credulous, but to trust in our expertise of the situation.”

“But that’s just it, we have to trust you, we have no way of verifying what you say with our own technology. Surely you can appreciate that that puts us in a difficult position. You’re looking for unfettered access to our world for a ritual that you tell us is going to be beneficial for all of us, but nothing you have explained lines up with anything we understand about the universe. You have to appreciate our unease.”

“We do,” said Aetril with a calming smile, “Of course we do. But this world does have magic in it, and moreover, we would be happy to show you examples. We have only not offered till now because we recognise your scepticism and we don’t want to make it seem like we are trying to pressure you with power. But if that’s what it will take to convince you, then please, tell us what you would like us to do. If it is with our skills, and is not ridiculous, we will do it.”

“How can she make everything sound as seductive as a high-class whore and as soothing as a mother at the same time?” asked Fandral with a shake of his head.

“Watch what you say,” said Thor irritably. He, like every young Aesir, had enjoyed fantasies about the seductive, diminutive queen, but he felt uncomfortable now after Loki had condemned his behaviour regarding such talk about Sigyn.

“I don’t suppose you could make water into wine,” said one delegate with a wry smirk around at the others. A chuckle rippled around the room. 

“Is that not one of the more important acts of one of your religions’ founders?” asked Sigyn.

“You’re thinking of wine into blood,” said Loki, sounding faintly amused. Sverrir was trying to sneak his phone back.

“No I’m pretty sure it was water into wine,” said Sigyn seriously.

“Actually it was both,” said the American president with an affable smile. Berach wrinkled his nose,

“Wine into blood? That sounds revolting.”

“In any case,” said Aetril quickly, “That is an easily done bit of magic.” And she waved her hand over her own glass which turned deep red at once. She picked it up and drank some of it, then handed it to her son who drank as well. “Is that enough.”

“Could just be hand waving,” said another delegate.

“Well then, what else could we do?” asked Sigyn, a touch of impatience in her voice.

“Could you bring someone back from the dead?”

“No,” said Loki firmly. “The dead are dead, and they must remain so, we could only reanimate the corpse, but it would be little more than walking flesh.”

“What about making food? Could you conjure up a meal for all of us here and now?”

“Only if we knew where the food was coming from. Food is subject to certain restrictions, it cannot be made from nothing.”

“So you are restricted by the conservation of matter?”

“In a sense.”

Aetril covered her microphone and leaned into Sigyn, whispering in her ear. Sigyn frowned, then gave a reluctant shrug. Aetril sat up again and said into the microphone,

“Perhaps something a touch more dramatic will help you believe it. I propose that in an hour, Queen Sigyn demonstrate a particular skill of hers. It should prove that magic is real for you. All we will require is some fire.”

**~*~**

Steve spotted Sigyn sitting at the piano in the hotel bar, idly plunking keys, her back bowed and her shoulders tense. It was late, and the bar was almost empty, as the hotel had reduced its usual number of guests to allow the alien delegates more privacy –they were of course being compensated for the gesture.

Steve thought that Sigyn looked oddly diminished for a woman who had, just this afternoon, proved magic was real by projecting her form into fires across the world. Even lighters, should someone flick it on, had tiny versions of the queen. It had been a stunning thing to witness, and Steve was sure pretty much everyone was now convinced. He stuck his hands in his pockets and saunter over to her.

“Hey.”

Sigyn blinked, seeming to come back to herself after drifting far away, then looked up and smiled at him,

“Oh, hello.”

“That show you put on was really great.”

Her smile dimmed a little, and she plunked a white key.

“Oh, well, it seemed to do the trick. That’s all that matters.”

Steve tilted his head and leaned against the piano.

“You don’t sound happy about it, what’s wrong?”

Sigyn sighed and shook her head,

“It’s nothing, really, I’m being foolish.”

“Are you sure?” Steve did not want to pry, they still did not know each other very well, but he could tell she was unhappy. Sigyn regarded him for a moment, assessing him before finally saying,

“I’ve only done that spell at home. It… has significance. I feel I cheapened it by using it here to convince your people magic is real.”

“Oh,” said Steve softly. “I’m sorry.”

Sigyn smiled, slightly bitter, and shrugged,

“We need this agreement more than a ritual to honour our trauma.”

“Trauma?” Steve recalled what Sverrir had told him, the hints Sigyn had given off herself. He was very curious but he would not press her for information. Sigyn shook her head,

“It’s not important right now. How are you Steve?”

“I’m fine, it’s been nice to see Earth being so cooperative, even if we’re not being very quick about agreeing to your requests.”

“I appreciate your people’s wariness, but we are running out of time. We have not even found a site to place the ritual.”

“Does it have to be a particular place?”

Sigyn looked out the window, frowning,

“There are places in this planet, as with all the Nine, that are more… permeable than others when it comes to seiðr. We need to find the right one, and that could take time. We then need to prepare the place and all the other places across the Nine before the Convergence begins. There’s so much work to do…”

“Why is this so important to you?” asked Steve, “I mean, I understand that it’s important to rebalance the seiðr system, but it means more than that to you, doesn’t it?”

Sigyn sighed, tilting her head back,

“My whole world was burned by the invasion of the Dökkálfar. I cannot feed my people. The Reset will help repair some of the damage, hopefully at least enough to stop too many people from dying of starvation.”

Steve impulsively reached out and rested his hand on hers. Sigyn startled slightly, looking at him in surprise, then giving a weak attempt at a brave smile.

“I’m sorry that happened. And I really hope that Earth can help you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, squeezing his fingers. Steve moved around so he was sitting on the piano bench next to her. It was very easy to link his fingers with hers.

“Did you lose family in the invasion?” he asked quietly. Sigyn let out a short, mirthless laugh,

“I lost everyone. I have no one left.”

It was on the tip of Steve’s tongue to say _You have Loki_ but he instinctively knew that would be the wrong thing to say. Sigyn looked at him,

“Did you lose people in your war?”

It felt like both a retaliation, and an attempt to seek a connection. Steve nodded,

“My best friend, among others. We were on a mission and he fell from a train on a mountain side. I still hear his scream sometimes, in my dreams, or even when I’m awake and my mind wanders to that time.”

“When the bombing stopped, it was so quiet I felt like I’d gone mad.” Sigyn’s fingers tightened on his, “Silence is somehow both wonderful and terrifying at the same time. I want silence, but if I get it-”

“It means there’s no distractions from the terrible thoughts in your mind,” finished Steve. Sigyn looked at him in surprise, then it melted into relief.

“Exactly,” she murmured. “Exactly.”

**~*~**

Loki spent his evening texting with Thor, a surprisingly enjoyable way for them to communicate, especially once Loki learned how to use the little pictures to add effects. Thor had even sent a short video of himself to play for Jörmungandr, which his son and Frigga had been thrilled by.

Loki had Sverrir’s phone shut off in his pocket, confiscated for the night so his friend would not cause more trouble than he already had with his ‘Twitter war’. Sverrir was sulking in his own room over it.

With little else to do, Loki had explored the internet for a while on his phone, sent out a couple of replies to question-tweets and watched many videos of baby animals, none of which were as cute as Fenrir’s puppy form. His mind needed a distraction from his idleness because he could not stop thinking about Sigyn and how draining she had clearly found her flame spell. It had done the trick, as Aetril had expected, but Sigyn had clearly found it taxing, physically if not emotionally.

When he got tired of looking at the small screen, he switched to the TV, moving from News to Dramas to Comedies. He settled in for an hour watching a wildlife documentary, finding the narrator’s soft, slightly raspy voice relaxing. Then, still not ready to go to bed, he explored the contents of the TV and came across something that distracted him completely.

It was a recording of a strange, somewhat dark and dank looking room, with a young, scantily dressed woman and a well-built bald headed older man. Baffled, Loki watched for a moment, his eyebrows jumping to his hairline as the man yanked up the woman’s skirt, exposing her bare sex. Seconds later her shirt was ripped open, exposing very large breasts. Loki sat up, half alarmed but the woman did not seem to mind. In fact she was vocally approving as the man fondled her breasts…

_Oh…_

Loki’s face began to burn, and he reached for the remote to switch it off, but did not press the power button. He could not quite resist the slightly dark impulse to keep watching the couple, who did not leave anything to the imagination. He bit his lower lip, free hand sliding to his own rising arousal. It had been so long, he had not even touched himself since that night he had kissed Hlin.

It wasn’t a romantic display, in fact it seemed to be aiming for the opposite, yet Loki’s mind drew upon memories, so he felt like he could almost put his and Sigyn’s images over the couple on the screen. How he missed sex with Sigyn.

_… fuck it!_

Loki tossed the remote aside and fumbled his trousers open, pushing them down to below his knees and taking himself in a spit-slicked hand. He groaned softly, already feeling too close to climax, having denied himself for so long. He looked at the TV again and watched the couple rut like wild animals, the woman braced against the wall, her back arched so her hips pressed back into the man who was pinning her against the cold stone. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was obscene, as was her moaning pleas.

“Oh god! More, fuck me harder!”

Loki stroked, half watching the couple, half lost in memories. He had once pinned Sigyn against a wall like that, his temper getting the better of him after watching her flirt with some Midgardian fop. It had not been the flirtation alone, Sigyn loved being flirtatious and he had learned to enjoy that part of her even when it was not directed at him, but he could tell there had been real chemistry between her and the other man. It had made his blood pound and his chest ache. He had all but dragged her away from the event they had been attending.

_“You’re mine,” he had growled furiously, biting at her mouth. Sigyn had laughed, biting back and shoving him around as he had tried to pin her down._

_“Only when I permit it.”_

_All the heavy clothing she had been wrapped in made him feel cut off from her, and he had ripped the corset apart, the whalebones flying everywhere. Her skirts had been removed the same way and Loki had shoved her against the wall, her cheek rubbing against the silk wallpaper. His hands had fondled her breasts, then plunged between her thighs, pushing them apart. Seconds later he had been inside her tight heat and snarling possessively. Sigyn had continued to laugh, until he thrust so hard she had bounced against the wall with a surprised yelp. The yelp had become a whimper of helpless pleasure and she had stopped struggling, only pressing back against him, pulling his hands where she had wanted them._

_Loki had buried his face into her neck, inhaling the scent behind her ear as he pounded his lover into the wall, almost literally. There had been a nasty dent in the wood afterwards._

_“No one else gets to touch you but me,” Loki had barked, raking his teeth over her jugular, which always drove Sigyn wild._

_“Yes! Oh yes, no one else so long as you keep –doing –that!” Sigyn had thrown her head back onto his shoulder, her sex tightening around him and milking his own climax from him with a howl._

Loki bit his lip to suppress the cry of pleasure as he climaxed all over his hand. His whole body seemed to have been pulled into his orgasm, from the roots of his hair to the ends of his curling toes. Finally he relaxed back, humming softly as the fuzzy bliss overtook him. It felt so good to lie there with the warmth of his orgasm floating inside him, his mind blank and content. He banished his spend from his hand, pulled the blankets to his chin and fell asleep without bothering to change his clothes. After so many months of tension, it was heavenly to just lie there and enjoy his moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter before I see Ragnarok tomorrow, I'm hoping the film will give me a spark of inspiration to get more work done.   
> -Funny Note: I found a Turkish Delight in Austria called Loki last month. Naturally I bought some to bring to the movie!


	33. Loose Tweets Sink Fleets

They had done it. They had come to an agreement with Midgard, and now seiðr experts could start surveying the planet for the right spot to set the ritual. There would still be details to hammer out, and this was only the beginning of a new alliance. It would be decades, maybe even centuries, before things settled into a more comfortable relationship, but it was enough for now. Certainly it was worth celebrating, and a celebration was set for that night. It was going to be a mixture of politicians, celebrities and actual royalty. Loki was trying to learn a list of names and faces so he would have half an idea of who he was talking to. The idea that he would be speaking to the descendants of so many monarchs he had met over the years was almost adorable.

A knock on his door pulled him from his musings. Sverrir entered, looking slightly nervous.

“I think I did a bad thing,” he said without preamble. Loki sighed and held out his hand. Sverrir handed over his phone.

“You need to learn impulse control,” said Loki, putting the phone away.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so easy and fun!”

“So who did you fight with now? Not that presidential candidate again.”

“Nooo,” said Sverrir, drawing the word out as if hoping to put off the inevitable. “It was not exactly a fight…”

“Out with it Sverrir, I have to read another fifty names!”

Sverrir sighed,

“I was talking to some people about how the rulers of the Nine are extremely accomplished in various fields. You’re not just politicians, you’re showmen. It prompted a bit of a debate about whether that was really something one needed in a leader, it was all quite interesting. Then someone asked me what sorts of skills you all use to win the hearts of the people. I mentioned how good you are at charming people with clever words, and how Sigyn would perform at religious festivals and the like. You remember the Ostara Festival?”

Loki felt his cheeks start to heat up as he remembered how he had climaxed in his trousers watching her. “Vividly.”

“Well, I was trying to explain it, but it… well…”

Loki folded his arms and waited. Sverrir struggled for a moment, then said,

“The thing about Twitter is that with such short character limits you have to be succinct, and it can lead to things being spread around that aren’t accurate and… well, one thing led to another and suddenly everyone decided that Queen Sigyn would be performing at the party tonight.”

The bottom dropped out of Loki’s stomach.

“What?”

“I was only trying to say she was a very talented performer, she can sing and dance beautifully. But then people said they wanted to see it, then it became a question of would she do something tonight if asked, all the way to ‘she is definitely going to perform tonight.’ By the time I realised what had happened it was too late. The media is already preparing for it and I heard several camera people talking about where they’d get the best angle from and –I swear I didn’t mean to do this!”

Loki wanted to strangle him, but that would not fix the problem that was about to crash over Sigyn’s head. She would be furious, he knew it. The memorial song and dance in the fire was one thing, but he knew she would be livid at the idea that she was expected to dance tonight. It was too like her duties as princess that she had come to loathe. It would make her feel reduced compared to the rest of them.

“We have to put a stop to this before Sigyn finds out,” he said, jumping up.

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to, it’s trending so much that she probably already knows and I already tried to tell them it wasn’t true. That didn’t seem to matter. The sheer force of expectation seemed to make it true to them. If Sigyn doesn’t perform, it might make her less likeable to the populace and… well she’s not exactly charmed them as it is.”

“What are you talking about? This treaty is all her work.”

“The politicians agreed because it was beneficial, but remember what Tony Stark said, the people’s opinion has weight. Sigyn has not interacted with them the way you have, the way Helblindi has, or Berach and Aetril. She’s too stand-offish, too tense and obsessed. And I understand why!” Sverrir hurried to say, “I understand why, but that won’t matter to this world’s populace.”

“What does she need Midgard’s love for?” demanded Loki, turning things over in his mind. Sverrir arched an eyebrow at him,

“Really? Are you actually asking me?”

“No,” Loki sighed, folding his arms across his chest. He knew that Sigyn would consider herself a failure if she could not get the humans to love her, even if she explained the feeling away with circular logic and political urgency. Sigyn was used to being loved, and more importantly she had discovered that love had been only so deep. Loki knew that while she would insist she did not want to be loved but respected, Sigyn would feel crushed if she found out the humans weren’t fond of her. “There has to be a way out of this. Let’s go and find Berach, he might have an idea.”

They found Berach, who had already discovered the issue via Instagram.

“You need to get a better grip on yourself,” he told Sverrir, who moaned, 

“I know. I’m sorry!”

“How are we going to fix this?” asked Loki quickly, feeling a mounting sense of panic. “Sigyn will kill us if this isn’t stopped.”

Berach sighed,

“I don’t think we can stop it. But we might be able to do something to mitigate it.” Berach jerked his head to the side, “Come, let us find my mathair.”

They found Aetril in the hotel garden, sitting in a tree. She dropped down at their approach and listened to the problem with a growing frown.

“If this has already spread, we probably cannot just disaffirm it.”

“So Sigyn will have to perform for everyone like a puppet because _someone_ ,” Loki threw Sverrir a filthy look, “Let their fingers run away with their brain? Could we not offer an alternative?”

“And what happens when Sigyn finds out we supplanted her?” asked Berach. “You know she’ll take this badly no matter the outcome.”

“Then perhaps we should put ourselves at her side,” said Aetril, running a soothing hand over her son’s shoulder. “At the very least I could offer to perform with her, I’m sure we could come up with something together.”

They debated in circles for several minutes before agreeing that Aetril’s idea had the most merit. As a group, they went to find Sigyn in her suite.

She wasn’t there.

“You just missed her,” said her aide, sticking her head out her own door. “She’s gone back to Vanaheim.”

“She’s what?” blurted Berach, his wings beating in agitation. “She’s just left?”

The aide, who Loki could not for the life of him remember the name of, raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“There was a situation she needed to deal with, but she’ll be back in time for the feast tonight.”

“While I understand that she must have more pressing concerns, we need to talk to her as soon as possible. There’s been an unfortunate misunderstanding on-”

The aide cut across Aetril with a cold, curt tone,

“If you mean the fact that she will be expected to perform tonight at the feat, she already knows.”

“She does?”

“Of course, do you really think she was not monitoring the feeds?”

Aetril smiled her most charming smile,

“I had thought to suggest that I join Sigyn in performing. I’m sure something between the two of us could be very enjoyable.”

The aide’s mouth twitched.

“My queen said you would say such a thing and to tell you that she appreciates the offer, but she will decline. She already knows what she will do tonight.”

“… really?” asked Loki in disbelief. The aide nodded, bowed, and retreated back into her rooms. Loki looked at the others and saw that they mirrored his own stunned, uneasy expression.

“This is not good, is it?” asked Sverrir, looking between them all.

“No, no it is not,” said Berach with a heavy sigh.

**~*~**

Steve answered his phone after two rings, wondering who was calling,

“Hello?”

“Steve? It’s Sigyn.” Her voice sounded thick, as if constricted by distress.

“Oh! Hey. How are you?”

“I –I need your help,” said Sigyn quickly. Steve straightened up in his chair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Loki’s aide has gotten people to think that I will be performing tonight and I can’t just back out, it will reflect poorly on me.”

“Uh… ok.”

“I have an idea that I think will work, but I need someone to do it with me. I was hoping you would be the one, because I… well I trust and like you more than anyone else right now.”

Steve found that statement rather sad, but he simply said,

“If I can I will help.”

Sigyn let out a sound of palpable relief,

“Wonderful, thank you Steve.”

“So what do you need to me to do?”

“Can you dance?”

“Uh… not really.”

“Perfect!”

**~*~**

The party was a huge mix of stars, business people, Midgardian royalty and politicians, all wearing their very best. Loki found his head turning constantly to take in all the elaborate dresses the women were wearing. Many were somehow both massive and barely there in the same moment. They did not look very comfortable.

Inevitably Loki’s eyes slid from a ‘pop star’ to Sigyn who was across the room talking to several women, who seemed to be engaging her in an intense discussion. She seemed to be enjoying herself, which was as much as Loki could hope for considering none of the Nine Realms rulers had been able to get near her. Every time Loki, Aetril or Berach tried to get close enough to talk to her, she seemed to melt back into the crowd and reappear on the other side of the room.

Loki found himself surrounded by so many people looking to bend his ear that he struggled to keep track of Sigyn’s movements. Between women trying to flirt, men trying to build rapports and goodness knew how many people wanting to see seiðr up close, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers.

Loki caught Aetril’s eye and she gave him a frustrated shake of her head.

Then, quite abruptly to Loki’s mind, the music stopped and Uzma Abdullah stepped up the raised platform and tilted the microphone to her mouth.

“Good evening everyone. I hope you’re all enjoying this wonderful night.”

Cheers all around. Loki fixed a smile on his face, looking around at the people nearby and smiling his best ‘happy king’ smile.

“I know there have been some rumours that our guests have a special presentation for us, and I am delighted to say that Queen Sigyn is indeed going to grace us with a performance.”

A spotlight lit upon Sigyn, who beamed around at everyone like she couldn’t have been happier to do this. The people applauded her politely, though Loki found himself remembering what Sverrir had said about her lack of popularity. Did Sigyn know about that?

“So without further delay I will ask Queen Sigyn to come up here to start the show!” Uzma clapped as she stepped aside while Sigyn ascended to the microphone.

“Thank you Uzma, and thank you all for being here. I know that everyone has been both nervous and excited at this new venture that we have asked you to travel with us.” Sigyn looked around at the crowd, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “After all the seriousness of our talks, lengthy explanations of seiðr and descriptions of the awesome power we wish to harness, I think it is time I show you a more… entertaining side of this power.”

Trails of teal seiðr flowed over her body, transforming her clothes from the beautiful traditional Vanir silk to a dress with a much shorter hemline and sharp pointed collar, while her hair shifted from the free flowing locks that had covered her shoulder to a carefully curled up do. People murmured in amazement as Sigyn patted her hair thoughtfully and said,

“There is one spell that I think you will find very interesting. When I was princess heir, I was the conductor of many religious rituals, all of which had a performance element to them, such as singing or dancing. But I often had a variety of people to perform with, and teaching them the steps to a new dance would often take too long. So I had a special casting that would enable me to convey the dance steps to my partners, allowing us to move in sync without rehearsal.”

Loki glanced around as the humans shared nervous looks. Sigyn obviously sensed their unease because she added,

“This is not mind reading or control. It is simply… a sharing of information, I cannot make someone a great dancer, I can only convey the intent of my movements. To show you how this works, I have asked one of your own to join me tonight. Captain Rogers?”

Loki’s head snapped around in the direction Sigyn was looking at as she jumped down from the stage. There was Captain Rogers, wearing a fine suit and looking rather bashful and shy, stepped out of the crowd. He walked up to Sigyn and placed his hand in hers. Loki felt his blood pressure skyrocket when Sigyn smiled at Captain Rogers and had to curl his hands into fists against his thighs to keep himself standing there.

Sigyn turned to face Captain Rogers, then reached up and touched her own temples, moving her fingers as if running them through her hair. Tendrils of her teal coloured seiðr came away and she pulled them away from her scalp, reaching out to touch Rogers’ temples. His eyes widened slightly as the seiðr seeped into his mind, connecting him to Sigyn. A relaxed sort of grin spread across his face.

Loki dearly wanted to throw something at him. Or possibly throw _him_ through a window.

“How do you feel Captain?” asked Sigyn, dropping her hands.

“Like myself, ma’am. Maybe a little more relaxed than usual.”

A slight chuckle spread through the crowd. Sigyn turned her back to Rogers and said,

“Now, let’s see if it worked.”

On que music began to play, light, happy sounding music that seemed to break the tension. Sigyn put her hands on the small of her back. Rogers mimicked her and in perfect unison the two started to step, two steps forward, one to the left, one back, repeat, then went in opposite directions so Rogers was in front.

It was charming, and several people made of ‘ohs’, but Loki knew that this was just the warm up. He started retreating, hoping the people would do the same to give the two more room, when he jumped as a hand touched his shoulder. He looked around.

“Thor!” he gasped, a smile splitting his face. Thor grinned at him,

“I’m very late, I do apologise, but I had… issues with my suit.”

Loki gripped his forearm.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said sincerely. Thor beamed but before he could say more, the music picked up, and both of them looked around in time to see Sigyn spin around to face Rogers and glide into his arms. They smiled at each other and started to dance around the floor, perfectly in sync and effortlessly graceful. Loki recognised the movements as being similar to the Jitterbug he had danced with Sigyn the day they had met Rogers.

The two blondes, one with pale skin, the other so dark, stepped, skipped, and jumped together. Rogers spun Sigyn under his arm, then pulled her back, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her through the air. The audience clapped.

“Ah, AH! Loki!” Thor hissed, trying to pry Loki’s fingers out of his arm. Loki let go, he had not even realised he had been doing it. Thor rubbed at his arm to chase the pain away, frowning at Loki in concern.

The dancing was getting faster, and more chaotic and natural. Sigyn was in her element and was leading Steve into her improvisation. They split apart and danced side by side, kicking and twisting, clapping their hands and encouraging the crowd to do the same. Rogers grabbed Sigyn’s hands and swung her between his legs, she curled up and hooked her legs around his waist, flipping herself upright and passing herself from his back into his arms without touching the ground. Rogers put his arms under her back and knees and threw her into the air. She twirled five times before he caught her swinging her legs around so she was back on the ground, the two of them spinning together, Sigyn’s dress spinning out around them.

Thor’s hand tightened on Loki’s shoulder, clearly afraid Loki was about to launch himself at the couple. Sigyn jumped and Rogers lifted her right up so she was braced on his shoulders with her legs above her so they formed a perfect line, holding it for the six crescendo beats to the shock and delight of the audience. Rogers bent his knees, then pushed up hard. Sigyn pushed away at the same moment, flew into the air and curled up into ball, spinning several times.

“If he drops her…” Loki growled.

“He won’t,” said Thor as Rogers caught Sigyn and set her down on her feet. Loki swallowed against a dry mouth as the dancing became more and more complicated and difficult until Sigyn threw her arms around Rogers’ shoulders and he dipped her until her feet were pointing to the ceiling and her hair touched the ground in a final pose. The music came to a stop and at the same time the audience burst into applause.

Rogers set Sigyn on her feet, his face flushed and a broad, slightly shy grin on his face as they bowed. Loki willed him to let Sigyn’s hand go, but even when he did, they laughed together and Sigyn kissed his cheek.

The glass in Loki’s hand shattered.

“Outside I think,” said Thor, gripping Loki’s upper arm and pulling him away as a waiter appeared at their side and started sweeping up the glass. Thor did not let go until they were outside, and even then he stood between Loki and the door. Loki seethed for a moment, then rounded on Thor,

“What is Rogers after? Does he think he can seduce Sigyn?”

“I have no idea Loki, but maybe you should take a breath.” Thor was eyeing him with naked alarm. Loki closed his eyes and dragged his hands over his face. “How are the boys?” Thor asked quickly.

“They’re fine. They liked the videos you sent them.”

“I was thinking I could take them to the zoo, and perhaps a dinosaur museum,” said Thor, clearly trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer. Loki considered it, still tense as a bowstring, but the suggestion melted some of his ire. His shoulders dropped,

“Actually I think Jörmungandr would love that.”

“Excellent! We can go to the one in New York. When do you think you’ll have time?”

“Probably in the next few days. We’re going to be shown Midgard’s culture while the various seiðr experts that aren’t me, Aetril, Berach and Sigyn start looking for the ideal placement for the ritual.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard all sorts of rumours about what the music will be –apparently every musician in the world has been vying for a placement, as well as musicals.”

“I just hope they don’t throw a hundred things together and make me sit through it all,” said Loki with a shudder.

“It’s caused no end of controversy, many accusations of racism, sexism and other words humans use to describe various prejudices have been thrown around,” said Thor with a faint roll of the eyes. Loki arched an eyebrow at him,

“Isn’t it a bit rich for you to be smug about prejudice considering how you got here?”

Thor blushed and mumbled incoherently for a moment, then looked up at the moon.

“Humans have landed on that you know.”

Loki turned to look up at the silvery orb. Midgard’s moon was unusual in its size, and he’d always found it quite beautiful, hanging alone in the dark.

“Have they? What did they do when they got there?”

“Collected rocks I think. Still, I found myself thinking about how Asgard doesn’t really do anything like that anymore. We used to, once, when we were explorers.”

“I think conquerors is a more apt word,” said Loki wryly. “So you think we ought to look into space travel?”

“You said it yourself, without the Bifröst Asgard was isolated. If we’d had spaceships we might have had a better chance of staying connected.”

Loki considered it for a moment, then nodded,

“I’ll tell you what, when things are a little more settled among the Nine, I’ll look into it. And when you come home, you can take over the leadership of it.”

Thor beamed. The music had started again in the hall, and they could see through the glass that many people were dancing. Loki tried to spot Sigyn, wondering if she was dancing with Rogers again. Thor made a sound like a muffled snort.

“What?” asked Loki indignantly.

“You are so transparent, it’s amazing I didn’t notice before. Let her have some fun, Loki.”

“I’m not stopping her,” he said, well aware he sounded petulant. Thor rolled his eyes.

“Of course brother. Come, let’s go back inside.”

Thor turned back to the door and he had taken hold of the handle as Loki blurted out,

“She wanted him!”

Thor turned back, frowning in confusion. Loki, unable to keep his anxiety to himself, explained, “When we met Rogers, all those years ago, Sigyn wanted him. She told me exactly what she wanted to do to him, what she wanted him to do to her, what she wanted me to do with him-”

“Loki! Ugh, there’s an image burned into my mind forever,” groaned Thor, grimacing violently.

“Just listen to me!” Loki said urgently, “Rogers is someone Sigyn has actually desired before, someone she admitted to fantasising about-”

“And she actually told you that?”

Loki gave an impatient wave of his hand,

“We talked often of the people we would invite to join us, but that was just talk, I don’t think I’d ever have actually been comfortable with it. Sigyn would never have pushed for it if she thought I would be uncomfortable with it. It was just… talk and fantasy. But now, now she might actually take Rogers to bed!”

Thor shook his head,

“Steve knows you and she were wed here and he would take that very seriously. He’s extremely honourable like that.”

“But what happens when Sigyn tells him that as far as she’s concerned our marriage is over?”

Thor looked thoughtful for a moment, then said,

“If that is truly how she feels… you cannot force her to love you again.”

“I know that!”

“If that is the case… would you really try to stop her from finding some measure of happiness after everything she’s been through?”

Loki gaped at him in disbelief. Thor added quickly,

“I am not saying that they will become lovers, but Rogers is a good man, he’s kind and selfless. I have learned much from him. I think it would be good for Sigyn to befriend him.”

“And if it becomes more?” asked Loki, his throat constricted. Thor sighed,

“We live very long lives Loki, maybe you two will find each other again.”

Loki felt the sting of betrayal and knew it had crossed his face because Thor reached out and squeezed his shoulder,

“I may be wrong about this, and I will be glad if I am. But for now, let it alone, or I imagine Sigyn will just resent you more.”

Loki nodded, feeling frustrated and miserable. The door swung open again and they looked around. Sigyn regarded them both warily, her clothes back to the Vanir silk and her hair (her wig) was loose around her shoulders again. Thor reacted first, turning to face her,

“Sigyn! I am so glad to see you again.” He sounded like he meant it too. Loki watched Thor move to embrace Sigyn, who leaned back to avoid it. Thor dropped his arms quickly and bowed at the waist. “My apologies, I should greet you as a queen.”

Sigyn did not seem to know how to react, she was eyeing Thor like a potential threat. Finally she said in a cool voice,

“Thor, I’m glad to see you are well. You look as if you’ve been in the sun a lot.”

Thor straightened up, tugging on his suit sleeve.

“I have been traveling this world, there is so much to see!”

“Yes, Loki tells me you’ve been using the knowledge you gained from my private records to explore. I do hope my personal secrets helped you have fun.”

An awkward silence seemed to engulf them, and Loki did not know what to do. Thor, however, said with conviction,

“I can only apologise for my invasion, and any offense that might have caused. However, I am also grateful to have found them. They showed me the side of my brother that I thought was long gone, the side that you nurtured in him.” Thor dropped to one knee, placing his hand over his heart and bowing his head, “I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kindness and care you gave my brother for all these long years. The love you shared with him is probably the only reason he stands with me now.”

Loki felt his face begin to burn, but the sincerity in Thor’s voice was impossible to dismiss.

“Sigyn, I know that you and my brother have parted ways now, but I will always be grateful to you for the wonderful gift you gave Loki. I will never be able to repay you for doing what my parents ought to have done, what I wish I’d been capable of doing. Loki has told me about what happened to him all those years ago, and I know now that I would have lost him completely without you. So thank you Queen Sigyn, and know that you may call on me, weakened though I am, for any favour that I can provide you from now until the end of my days.”

Thor bowed his head to Sigyn, who was gaping at him as if she could not believe her ears. Loki too found himself staring at his brother in amazement. Thor really had changed. Loki risked a glance at Sigyn, watching the way emotions played over her face as she struggled for words. She had been seeking to wound, and instead had been thanked. She looked up and met Loki’s eyes, and Loki felt that she was imagining if she had not helped him all those centuries ago. Loki did not doubt that Thor was right, he would never have recovered as well as he had without her. Was she imagining a life without him in it? What did that make her feel? It was impossible to tell because the emotions were at war with her efforts to remain impassive.

Finally Sigyn said in a tight voice,

“The past is the past. We are all alive and billions of my people are not. That is the present. The only present I will concern myself with. I… I thank you for your gratitude Thor, but it is not necessary. Loki would have found a way to recover without me. He is difficult to defeat, your brother.”

Thor looked up at her,

“I disagree with your assessment that Loki would have been better off. He has known a kind of love that many yearn to feel. And my debt will stand, because I am proud to consider you a sister, even if you and Loki never reunite.”

Sigyn’s breathing picked up, and her eyes flashed. Loki braced himself for her to rage at Thor for trying to claim kinship. Instead she looked at Loki and snapped,

“Keep your friend off the Internet until he learns how to keep his mouth shut. I will not be put into such a situation ever again!”

Loki nodded and Sigyn threw Thor one more bewildered look before going back inside. Thor got to his feet, looking at Loki who smiled weakly at him.

“Thanks, for what you said.”

“It needed to be said. I am grateful for her loving you. I have been thinking over what you told me about those years, and I know I came closer than I ever realised to losing you forever. I would rather be mortal and powerless for the rest of my life than if that meant you were still in it.”

Damn him, why did he have to be so endearingly sincere? Loki could not stop himself from hugging his older brother and getting squeezed in return.

“You didn’t tell me she’d gotten so scary though,” Thor muttered into Loki’s shoulder.

Loki laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I loved Ragnarok! I feel like I got a Thor I didn’t know I wanted but now I’m so happy he’s there. I’m not saying it was a perfect film, but I enjoyed it so much more than Dark World. It’s unlikely to really change anything in this fic, but the naturalness of the performances might have an impact on dialogue to a point.


	34. If You Go Into the Zoo Today…

To say Midgard was eager to show off was the biggest understatement. Loki and the other guests had toured the world at a speed that was starting to wear even them down. They had been to historical landmarks, museums of art, nature and science. They had seen some beautiful places that Loki had already seen before with Sigyn which made them both feel awkward. In Rome they met the Pope and Loki could not stop remembering the party they had attended 500 years before with that day’s pope and his chestnut chasing prostitutes. It was very hard not to ask this Pope if he had the same tastes.

Rogers accompanied them everywhere, as an enhanced human he was one of the only people able to keep up with their gruelling schedule. The look on his face when the Pope greeted him with enthusiasm was almost adorable. It was hard to dislike him, but Loki kept his distance. It was better to let him be Sigyn’s friend, without his involvement. Rogers seemed to sense that because he never tried to make nice with Loki, only spoke to him as the brother of Thor.

Now that the deal had been struck, the monarchs were much more relaxed, and there was something of a party air about the events. Drink flowed and it was all about personality now. With Sverrir, his phone cautiously returned, watching the internet and giving advice, Loki knew he had to be charming and informal, yet command their attention with that charm.

They were interviewed over and over again by various media, some serious and political, others were sillier such as one who asked them for their opinion on a variety of cheeses. Helblindi, who was showing himself to be surprisingly witty and good natured, had been finding so called ‘think pieces’ and quizzes they were inspiring and sending them to the Royal Group Chat they used to coordinate their movements. Some were interesting, some were ridiculous, and some were just plain bizarre,

_‘He didn’t believe in aliens. What happened next will shock you.’_

_‘Blind commentary on ET Queen’s Speech’_

_‘Which alien royal are you? Take this quiz!’_

_‘Find out how your eye colour hints at whether you’re a Vanir or a Jotun.’_

_‘What does the ethnicity of Queen Sigyn mean to the UK?’_

_‘Learn how alien interaction will affect the economy in Germany.’_

_‘Aliens are real, but we still have gun crime in America.’_

_‘Sigyn and Aetril both want me as their king –but I’m here to make America Great Again!’_

_‘OSIRIS leaders denounce alien races as hieratical.’_

_‘Why having a woman ruling a whole planet is still sexist.’_

_‘Costume shops run out of fake wings!’_

_‘The truth behind the fake news of ‘alien leaders’ –How the gay agenda is using the ridiculous idea of aliens to convert our youth.’_

_‘How to copy Aetril’s bohemian flower child hairdo!’_

_‘This is a precursor to immigrant plague –UKIP speaks out’_

_‘Find out which Disney Princess you are based on which alien ruler you prefer.’_

During an idle moment Loki and Berach took some of the tests. Berach was told he was Princess Tiana, which Loki thought was better than his result, which was Snow White. For some reason when they mentioned the results to the others Sigyn got a fit of giggles so out of character that everyone stared at her in surprise and she had to leave their company to calm down.

“You take the test!” Loki said to Helblindi to distract them all. Helblindi regarded him for a moment, then unlocked the special phone Stark had designed for him. Several minutes later, he asked,

“Who is Belle?”

The Internet was a fascinating alternate world and Loki was becoming more and more tempted to have something similar developed for Asgard. If nothing else, the amount of in fighting that it would inevitably produce would be highly entertaining.

On the fourth day they were given a break and Loki arranged to meet Thor with the boys and go to the zoo in New York. Hlin came down with them, but she returned as soon as she handed everything over. Loki wanted it to be just his brother and sons. He informed their handlers where he was going and transported himself and the boys to the destination he’d found on his phone.

“Brother! Nephew!”

Thor was waiting at the entrance to Bronx Zoo, waving so enthusiastically he was drawing attention to himself. Jörmungandr pressed against Loki’s leg as they walked up, still wary about being near Thor in person. Loki rolled his eyes at his brother’s lack of subtlety and walked over to him, Fenrir in one arm, Jörmungandr’s hand in his other. He could feel people staring with uncertain excitement, clearly trying to figure out if he was who they thought. Loki had deliberately worn Midgardian casual wear with a hat to make himself less distinctive. It did not seem to be working.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” said Thor, beaming at them. “I think you’re going to really like this place Jörmungandr. It’s full of animals, from small to big… well, maybe not as big as some of the creatures in Asgard, but still large.”

Jörmungandr said nothing, but he stopped pressing against Loki’s leg. Thor looked at Loki and then held out a bag.

“I brought you this brother, I think you will find it helpful!”

Loki looked from one arm holding a baby to the other holding Jörmungandr’s hand and raised his eyebrows at Thor. Thor grinned,

“It’s just what you need.” He pulled something soft out of the bag, put the bag into his coat pocket and held it up, “It’s called a baby sling! You put it on and Fenrir goes into it, pressed safely against your chest, but your hands will be free.”

“I know what a baby sling is Thor, we have them at home,” said Loki, amused and slightly touched, “I don’t use it because it doesn’t really go with Asgard’s image of kingship, but you’re right, it would be very helpful here.”

Thor looked so pleased with himself it was impossible not to laugh. It took a few minutes to get the sling on and Fenrir in, but once he was he yawned and rubbed his face against Loki’s chest contentedly. Loki didn’t need Thor to laugh and point it out, he could feel how soppy his expression went.

Thor paid their way in and Thor took them over to the first enclosure. Strange, black creatures were basking in the sunlight next to a pool. They had flippers and looked sleek but fat. Kind of like Volstagg.

“Sea Lions,” Thor read aloud. “These are sea mammals. They live in very cold parts of this world.”

Jörmungandr peered through the glass, he was a bit too small to see properly, so Thor reached down, picked him up and held him high enough to see the animals. Jörmungandr started in alarm, but after a moment he relaxed and allowed Thor to hold him.

“They’re not doing anything!” Jörmungandr complained.

“They’re napping, that’s all,” said Loki.

“Wake them up!”

“We can’t,” said Loki.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s mean,” said Loki firmly. Jörmungandr pouted, and squirmed to be set down again. Thor let him down and said,

“Let’s see what else there is.” He threw Loki a nervous look, but Loki shook his head,

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly, “He’s warming up to you, otherwise he’d have kicked you to let him down.”

“Hm,” said Thor thoughtfully as they walked to the next exhibit, a sign telling them they were heading for Asia.

“Whoa!” Jörmungandr exclaimed and he ran off in a different direction.

“Jörmungandr don’t run off!” Loki called after him, but his son ignored him in favour of pressing his face against the glass of another enclosure. Inside were several large grey animals with horns on their noses.

“What’s that?” asked Jörmungandr, sounding fascinated.

“A rhino,” said Thor, crouching next to him to tell him all about the animal. Loki watched them with a small smile, rubbing the small, warm lump that was Fenrir in the sling.

“Always nice to see,” said a woman with approval as she came up beside him. Loki at her questioningly. “Daddy with a baby,” she explained, gesturing to the sling. “Always nice to see dads doing their bit.”

Loki smiled politely and nodded, looking at his son and brother talk about the strength of the rhino.

“That one yours too?” asked the woman, gesturing to the two.

“Yes,” said Loki.

“I’ve got four myself,” said the woman, waving at four blonde children that were jostling for space at the glass. “It’s my youngest’s birthday, and this is where he wanted to go, so here we are.”

“Ah, well, this seems like a good place,” said Loki, to have something to say. He could sense she wanted to say something else but was warming up to it. Not inclined to talk to anyone, Loki waited in silence. At last the woman burst out,

“I hope you don’t find this offensive, but I think it’s really great what you’re doing right now.”

Loki groaned internally, so she had recognised him and wanted to talk about the treaty.

“Well we have the best of intentions.”

“Oh I’m sure you do, but it must be so hard at times, with people staring and saying horrible things.”

Loki shrugged,

“I don’t worry too much about it. We know we’re doing the right thing for everyone, and eventually everyone will understand that. We just need time.”

“Oh absolutely!” said the woman enthusiastically. “Give it enough time and everyone will be on board. It’s like all big changes, the right ones will stick and become normal, the wrong ones will be changed again. It’s how progress works.”

“To a point,” said Loki, “Sometimes things that are wrong can become normal, because it’s easier for the average person to just go along with it.”

The woman patted him on the arm,

“Well I can assure you that I know that the direction we’re heading now is the right one. Someday you and your family won’t have to be worried about being attacked just for doing what makes you happy.”

Loki looked at her in alarm,

“I was not aware my family was at risk over this.”

“Wow, you must live in a very tolerant neighbourhood!” the woman laughed, “I wish my neighbours were a bit more open-minded. I have one neighbour, a real conservative, who went on this appalling rant about how gayness was a choice and should not be ‘indulged’ by laws changing to embrace it. I mean, I don’t get how she can think that way. Science has proven it’s not a choice, and even if it is, who cares? People should be able to love who they love and have kids if they want to. I’m sure you and your partner are better than average parents, considering the hoops you must have had to jump through to have your kids.” She waved her hand to encompass Loki, Fenrir, Jörmungandr and Thor.

As understanding dawned on Loki, he let out a bark of laughter and clapped a hand to his mouth, trying to suppress the chuckles that were trying to escape. The woman looked bewildered, while Thor and Jörmungandr turned to look at him. Unable to speak Loki shook his head hard and dissolved into outright giggles.

“Brother, are you all right?” asked Thor in concern. The woman let out a gasp and looked at Loki in outrage, clearly taking his laughter for mockery. Face flushing, she called her children and chivvied them away, throwing Loki a nasty look as she went. Loki finally managed to get himself under enough control to explain to Thor what had happened.

“She thought we were –eugh!” Thor grimaced in disgust, shuddering exaggeratedly. Jörmungandr pulled on Thor’s arm,

“I wanna see the next animal.”

“Ok, ok,” said Thor, and he let Jörmungandr tug him along to the next enclosure, Loki following in their wake still sniggering. Jörmungandr was impressed by the big cats and the giant pandas, he was so excited and cheerful that he allowed Thor to put him on his shoulders and played with Thor’s hair between enclosures, asking a hundred questions. Loki sauntered along behind them, enjoying his son’s delight and the animals themselves.

Then they got to the wolf enclosure. There were five adults that he could see, and as they approached the glass, the wolves all looked around at them.

“Oh look!” cried Jörmungandr in delight, “They’re coming to greet us.”

Indeed the wolves were all standing and approaching the glass, their eyes fixed on Loki. Loki wondered if the wolves could smell Odin’s wolves on him and recognised some kinship. The biggest adult stopped close to the glass and sat on his haunches, sniffing the air and letting out a soft noise. Bewildered, Loki looked at Thor who looked back in confusion and shrugged. Jörmungandr tugged on his uncle’s hair,

“Let me down! I want to talk to them.”

Thor set Jörmungandr down and he ran to the glass, banging on it excitedly.

“Hi! Hi!”

The wolves did not react to him, instead they continued to look up at Loki. Jörmungandr looked at Loki, pouting slightly.

“What are they doing Papa?”

“I’m not sure,” said Loki honestly, stepping forward and looking down at the lead wolf. It continued to stare at him… or was it him it was looking at? Its eyes seemed to be fixed on his chest… of course!

“It’s Fenrir they’re looking at! They must sense his wolf side,” said Loki with wonder. He had never seen anything like this before. Fenrir squirmed in the sling, sticking his fist in his mouth and sucking on it. He did not seem to sense the wolves in turn but if and when he started getting older…

“Come along Jör,” said Thor, beckoning him. “Maybe when we get to the reptiles you’ll have a similar connection.”

Jörmungandr gave Thor an appraising look, then raised his hands over his head expectantly. Thor lifted him back onto his shoulders and the small group set off in search of the reptiles. Outside the reptile house, Loki crouched in front of his son, now on the ground once more.

“Jörmungandr, I want you to promise me that you will not turn into your serpent self in there. Humans are not familiar with magic, and we don’t want to scare them by you turning into a serpent.”

“But what if the other serpents want to talk to me?” asked Jörmungandr anxiously.

“We’ll see what happens, but promise me you won’t turn into a serpent when we go in there.”

Jörmungandr huffed, kicked at the ground, but nodded,

“I promise.”

Loki took his son’s hand this time, ready to push Jörmungandr back into his Ás form if he tried to change. The reptile house was dark, warm and slightly damp. Jörmungandr went straight for the biggest snake in the space, which was a boa constrictor and pressed his face to the glass. Loki held his breath, half hoping the snake would not react to him.

However the snake’s eyes opened and it slithered straight to the glass to look Jörmungandr in the eye.

“Wow…” breathed Jörmungandr, then he hissed softly. Loki watched him in alarm, but his son’s shape did not change, only his voice. The snake seemed to respond and dipped its head to him. Was it… submitting to Jörmungandr? Loki looked at Thor in slight alarm. Thor shrugged helplessly as Jörmungandr continued to make soft hissing and spitting noises.

“Check out Harry Potter over there!” laughed someone. A youth and his friends were pointing at Jörmungandr and laughing, the speaker jeering, “Speaking Parseltongue Potter?”    

Loki narrowed his eyes at the youths, ready to tell them to leave, when Jörmungandr turned back to him.

“Papa, she wants a deer to hunt for herself, can we get one for her?”

“The keepers here feed all the animals, we don’t need to feed them,” said Thor. Loki was glad Thor was able to answer the question because he was too busy wondering how he had never known Jörmungandr could speak to serpents. Certainly when he took an animal’s form he could communicate with them, but never in his Ás form.

“She’s bored!” complained Jörmungandr. “And she doesn’t like people always banging on the glass. It’s annoying.”

“They do try to stop people from doing that, come on Jor, we’ve other animals to see,” Thor coaxed. Loki’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname, but he was more concerned with the laughing youths still watching them.

“Papa, can we bring her with us?” asked Jörmungandr anxiously.

“No Jörmungandr, we can’t,” said Loki, “She has to stay where she is.”

“But why?” Jörmungandr demanded.

“Because this is where she belongs, we cannot just take her.”

“You’re king, you can do what you like,” said Jörmungandr irritably.

“No I can’t,” said Loki curtly. “Now come along.” He could hear the youths behind them now whispering to each other,

“Holy shit is that actually him?”

“It’s totally him!”

“Get a video!”

Annoyed now, Loki reached for Jörmungandr, but his son gave him a stubborn glare and pressed against the glass.

“Jörmungandr if you keep this up we’ll leave the zoo right now and you want to see the other animals, don’t you?”

“I want this one to come too!” Jörmungandr exclaimed. Over his shoulder the snake was watching the argument.

“Jörmungandr, let’s go,” said Loki, trying to keep his voice calm. Jörmungandr glared at him, then, with obvious resentment, he took Loki’s hand and allowed himself to be led away, a dark scowl on his face. Loki walked them out of the reptile house and continued on as fast as he could. Jörmungandr wrenched his hand free as soon as they slowed down, stomping off to the nearest enclosure, his shoulders up to his ears. Loki sighed,

“He’s got my worst traits. You’d think I’d know how to handle them.”

“He was upset for the snake’s wellbeing, that’s not a bad thing to feel,” said Thor reasonably.

“He wants a pet, but I don’t think he’ll look after it.”

“Well, maybe you should let him try, but make sure the servants know they are not to look after it for him. It might do him some good.”

“Maybe. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s moody and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“King Loki! King Loki!”

Loki winced at the excited call, turning around to see the same youths hurrying up to him, their phones out.

“Can we get a selfie with you?” asked the leader. Loki raised his eyebrow at them,

“You think you can ask me a favour after mocking my son not five minutes ago?”

“We didn’t know he was yours,” said one boy.

“And what difference does that make?” asked Thor, standing shoulder to shoulder with Loki. “You were still mocking a child.”

“C’mon please take a selfie with us, no one will believe we met you otherwise!” pleaded a freckle faced boy.

“I am here with my brother and sons, I am not here to entertain you,” said Loki, not feeling inclined to oblige.

“Don’t be a dick, c’mon!”

“Go away!” Jörmungandr had come back to Loki’s side, eyes dark and hair on end. “Go away and leave us alone!” When the boys did not react other than to stare at him in bewilderment, Jörmungandr hissed violently at them. His face changed with the motion, elongating and darkening to black, his teeth sharpening and his forked tongue shooting out at them. The boys screamed in terror and ran for their lives.

Loki reacted at once, stepping in front of Jörmungandr and crouching in front of them. He took his son’s skinny shoulders in his hands and said,

“Jörmungandr, calm down!”

Jörmungandr did not immediately react to his order, he was still hissing furiously. Loki took hold of his chin and forced his head down so they were looking at each other.

“Enough, it’s over. They’re gone. Calm down my boy, it’s all fine.”

Jörmungandr blinked, looking at Loki properly. Another blink and the serpent face receded back into his usual form. He looked so upset, tears forming in his eyes,

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said anxiously. “I didn’t mean to go serpent.”

“I know you didn’t,” said Loki gently, smoothing his hands up and down Jörmungandr’s arms to calm him. “It’s all fine, you didn’t hurt anyone, you just gave those foolish boys a scare. It’s all fine now.”

Jörmungandr’s tears started to fall, and he reached for Loki, making grabby motions with his hands. Loki quickly took Fenrir out of the sling and gave him to Thor so he could take Jörmungandr in his arms properly. Jörmungandr started to cry onto Loki’s shoulder, soaking through Loki’s shirt quickly.

Loki didn’t tell him to stop, instead he made soft noises of reassurance and stood up with his son, setting him on his hip and rubbing his back. Thor watched anxiously, looking just as upset. Loki gave him a reassuring look,

“It’s been a busy day, he’s tired.”

“Should we leave?” asked Thor. Loki considered the question, then put the question to Jörmungandr,

“Do you want to see the rest of the animals? Or do you want to go?”

It took some time for Jörmungandr to calm down enough to make a decision. He wanted to see the rest of the animals, but he would not let Loki put him down. In the end Loki used seiðr to move the sling from himself to Thor so he could mind Fenrir while Loki looked after his eldest. The big cats did not appeal to Jörmungandr, he remained very clingy, but when he saw the elephants he perked up. He still would not let Loki put him down, but he lifted his head and stretched out his hand to try and touch the nearest one. Strangely the elephant seemed to respond to him, because it lifted its trunk and stretched it towards Jörmungandr’s hand. Jörmungandr stretched with all his might and Loki held him out as far as he could.

The two just managed to brush each other and Jörmungandr gave a delighted laugh.

“She likes me!”

The elephant gave a little trumpeting noise that sounded cheerful, then withdrew her trunk and started to walk away. By the time she was half way across the enclosure, Jörmungandr turned to Loki and said,

“Papa, I know what I want as a pet!”

Loki sighed.

**~*~**

At a nearby restaurant, Loki switched his phone back on, and the item began to beep, chirp and ring with notifications. A quick check of them all told him what was happening.

“Damn, someone recorded us in the zoo, and it’s all over the internet,” he said. Thor took out his own phone and switched it on. It beeped and chirped as well.

“Several people filmed what happened with those boys,” he said nervously. “People are demanding to know what it was all about, some are even saying-” Thor caught himself in time but Loki knew what he was talking about because he could see it. People were accusing Jörmungandr of being dangerous, a freak monster Loki had brought to the zoo posing as a child. His blood pressure sky-rocketed as he read.

“I need to get back to the others, they’ve been trying to reach me to do damage control.” Loki stood up, taking Jörmungandr’s hand and pulling him away from his chips. Thor followed, arm wrapped protectively around Fenrir.

“Let me come with you, I can look after the boys while you deal with the rest.”

Loki nodded, taking Thor’s hand and pulling all four of them back to London, where they were currently staying.

“There you are!” cried Sverrir, running up to them. “Queen Sigyn is having a fit over this.”

“Of course she is,” said Loki irritably. “Come, let’s deal with it. Jörmungandr stay with your uncle.”

“Papa?” called Jörmungandr. Loki looked back at him. Jörmungandr’s face was pinched with anxiety. “Am I in trouble?”

“No son, you’re not. I promise you, you are not in trouble.” Loki gave him a reassuring smile, then looked at Thor who nodded reassuringly. Loki followed Sverrir to Aetril’s suite where they were all waiting for him. Before anyone could say anything, Loki said,

“I know this is a problem, but I will explain it and everything will be fine.”

“Of course it will be, but our concern is that it seems to have set over a furious argument between the humans about so called mutants,” said Aetril. “Apparently Jörmungandr’s change has launch a debate that has been raging for decades.”

Loki considered for a minute, trying to avoid looking at Sigyn who was sitting in an armchair across from him. He turned to Sverrir,

“Get me some information about these mutants, I want to explain my son’s abilities, but if they are going to cause this argument to go on longer I need to know.”

Sverrir nodded and picked up the laptop Stark had given them now they were more familiar with the human technology. Loki looked at the other leaders who were all regarding him with inscrutable expressions.

“My son felt threatened, he was just trying to defend himself and me.”

“We know that,” said Helblindi, catching Loki off guard. “A child’s skills in seiðr are a complicated thing. He is young, he will grow to control them.”

The others all murmured agreements, except Sigyn. Irritated, Loki looked at her,

“I suppose you wish I’d never allowed my sons to spend time with their uncle!”

Sigyn looked up at him and Loki was surprised again by her expression. There was no anger or panic, but something deeply unhappy. Sigyn drew herself to her feet and met Loki’s eyes steadily.

“Your son had a moment of panic in a strange world when he felt threatened. He is a child, it’s what they do. I’m sure you will fix it soon enough.” Without another word, she left the room. Loki stared after her, startled out of his annoyance. He looked at Aetril,

“Did you have a word with her before I got here?”

Aetril shook her head,

“She’s been like this since the news broke. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Uh, Loki,” called Sverrir anxiously. “We may have no choice but to address the topic of mutants.”

Loki went to sit next to him to do some research.

**~*~**

Thor felt a little awkward now he was alone with his nephews. Fenrir was starting to squirm and if he started crying Thor had no idea what he would do. Jörmungandr was subdued, clearly still upset about what had happened. Thor tried to cheer him up by showing him videos of animals on YouTube, which seemed to help, because Jörmungandr cuddled up against Thor’s side, thumb in his mouth and eyes fixed on the screen. Thor took Fenrir out of the sling and let him stretch and coo. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement and looked up.

Sigyn was standing on the other side of the Foyer, looking straight at Thor. She did not seem able to move. Thor beckoned her over and she came with halting steps.

“Good evening Queen Sigyn.”

“Good evening Thor.” Sigyn sat down opposite him, stiff backed and eyes moving around as if she could not look directly at him. Or- no not him, but the boys. Loki had mentioned that Sigyn had loved the boys as her own, but she had not seen them in all the time Vanaheim had been in contact with Asgard. Was this the first time she was actually seeing them?

“These are my nephews, Jörmungandr and Fenrir.”

“I gathered,” said Sigyn, looking from one boy to the other and then away as if they burned her eyes. Meanwhile, Jörmungandr looked up and went ridged next to Thor. Looking down Thor saw Jörmungandr looked almost terrified as he gazed at Sigyn. That was very odd, but perhaps Jörmungandr was just wound up from the day’s events.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jörmungandr tugged on Thor’s arm,

“Uncle, I need to go to the bathroom.”

Thor was about to say ‘so go’ when he realised that Jörmungandr might not be able to go by himself. That was a slightly alarming thought, but he smiled as best he could.

“Alright, let’s go.” He stood up and was about to put Fenrir back in the sling when he had an idea. “Sigyn, would you mind holding Fenrir while I take Jörmungandr to the bathroom?”

Sigyn’s expression was one of alarm, and she seemed poised to refuse, but Thor thought it might help her and Loki reunite. So without waiting for a reply, he put Fenrir into her arms, giving her very little choice in the matter. Sigyn took him awkwardly, looking ready to throw him back at Thor, but then she looked down at Fenrir’s face and Thor could practically see her heart melt.

“We’ll be right back,” he said and he took Jörmungandr by the hand, leading him away and feeling triumphant.

“That was Sigyn,” said Jörmungandr sullenly as they searched for the nearest bathroom. “That was Papa’s wife.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I don’t like her,” said Jörmungandr.

“Why not?”

“Because she makes Papa do things like try to get rid of Hlin, and he says I have to call her Mama, but she’s not my Mama. Hlin is my Mama.”

“Ah… um…” Thor had no idea how to deal with this problem, so he said lamely, “Maybe you should talk to your papa about this.”

“He doesn’t listen,” said Jörmungandr.

“Here’s the bathroom!” Thor said, a touch too loudly. They had to spend a little bit of time getting Jörmungandr sorted, he didn’t like the idea of pissing against the wall, but quickly enough they were heading back. As they rounded the corner, Thor slowed down as he saw Sigyn. She had curled up into a ball in the corner of the couch, holding Fenrir to her breast and gazing down at him like he was the most amazing thing in the world. Her hand was stroking his tiny fingers and as they got closer Thor could see Fenrir was looking up at Sigyn with his big dark eyes.

“What’s Fenrir doing?” asked Jörmungandr, distracting Thor.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Jörmungandr pointed at the woman and baby.

“He’s using seiðr, he doesn’t normally do that unless he’s turning into a puppy, but he’s not going puppy.”

Thor looked back at the two and this time he could see the tiny tendrils of dark green seiðr, emanating from Fenrir’s whole form and flowing into Sigyn, who seemed unaware of it. In fact she seemed utterly entranced.

“Oh no…” muttered Thor, rushing over without a clue of what he could do.

**~*~**

The instant the baby was in her arms she was looking down into a face she had only had a brief glimpse of centuries before, but had never forgotten. She was back in the forest, with a shrieking Loki begging her to help him. She had just pulled this baby out of him and was staring at him in wonder. The baby opened his eyes and looked up at her, and she could feel the swoop of her belly, her heart expanding to encompass him, as she fell in love with this new born.

It was all happening again. Fenrir opened his dark eyes, peering up at her and cooing softly. _He knew her._ His tiny hand reached up and rested on her chest, just above her neckline, skin against skin. Sigyn felt like she was waking up from a nightmare, and now she was right where she wanted to be. She had her baby in her arms and he would never leave again.

It was absolute bliss to sit there and hold that warm little body, to love him so completely and simply. All her anxiety, her worries and her fears faded away as she looked down at Fenrir’s face and he looked up into hers.

_My baby… mine._

“Sigyn!”

At the call of her name, the connection broke, Sigyn came back to herself and all her miseries came back too. Fenrir started to wail, his tiny nails clawing at her skin as she straightened up and looked around. Thor was standing over her, looking worried, and she was struck by the way the sunlight dazzled on his blonde hair. But she became aware of a deep pain growing in her body and she looked down to see the dark green seiðr flowing from his flailing fists.

He had done something to her, something intensely primal and instinctive. The pain was growing and her panic increased.

“Sigyn?” Thor touched her shoulder and she slapped his hand away, rising to her feet and pushing Fenrir into his arms. She had to get away, she had to undo whatever Fenrir had done. She knew Thor was calling her back, but she kept moving, because if she stopped she would fall apart. The pain was in her chest, in her belly, it was penetrating her bones and her tissues.

Sigyn barely made it to her chambers before she collapsed in agony. She crawled on her belly to the couch and tried to climb into it, but she could not manage it. She sobbed desperately, clawing at her clothes as her body began to bubble like hot wax, reforming into a new shape.

No… not a new shape…

“No, no please. I don’t want it –I don’t want it!” she begged, choking on her own breath. “Please, please no, don’t make me-”

But the seiðr was out of control, it was ripping through her, undoing all her protective layers and exposing her to the air to fester.

“… _please_ …”


	35. The Long Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some squick due to bodily fluids in this chapter.

“My son Jörmungandr has innate magical ability, including shape shifting, which he inherited from me. His favourite change is a serpent, which is akin to a second skin for him. As he is very young he does not always have complete control over his emotions, as with any child his age. Like parents use their developed emotional control to guide a child through a tantrum, I use my magic to ensure that he can use his talents in a safe and educated manner.

“The incident that occurred today at the Bronx Zoo was unfortunate, but the boys who were frightened by my son were never in any danger, as shown by the various recordings that are all over the Internet. My son became upset by the boys mocking him earlier, then at their demanding favour from me. His distress led to his partial shifting, but I was able to calm him down without issue.

“I understand that this incident has raised the issue of mutants among your own divisions, which seems to be a long standing concern. I have never met a mutant human, as far as I know, so I cannot speak to the issue. It seems to me that humans have always had some reason to fear other humans throughout history.

“My son was never a danger to anyone. He is a child, under my guidance, any concerns or issues you take with him are to be direct to me. Any threats made to him, are made to me, and I can assure you, they will not be taken lightly.”

Sverrir turned off the recording and glanced at Loki nervously.

“Are you sure you want to end on such a threatening note?”

Loki glared at him and wordlessly pointed at the screen of his phone. Some of the things being said about his innocent little boy were so vicious and cruel that it was taking most of his energy to resist the urge to track the authors down and punch their teeth out. Sverrir sighed,

“Fair enough.” He pressed a few buttons on the laptop. “There, it’s done. I’ll keep an eye on the reactions and give you a report when I have one.”

“Thank you. Now I’d better find my sons, I left them alone with Thor and he’s never so much as filled a bottle.” Loki left before Sverrir could think of anything else he needed to say. He strode through the hotel, thinking he should have sent Thor with the boys to his own rooms. As he exited the lift, he heard Fenrir’s howling and Jörmungandr’s scolding voice. He hurried to the sounds to find Thor looking desperate, his oldest son tugging on Thor’s jeans, and his baby screaming so much he was turning purple.

“What is going on?” he demanded.

“She hurt Fenrir!” Jörmungandr shouted, running up to Loki and grabbing his hand. “She did something to him and he won’t stop crying.”

“Who did? What happened?” Loki looked at Thor, already reaching for Fenrir. Thor handed him over.

“I didn’t know this would happen Loki, I swear it!” he said, looking upset.

“What happened?” Loki demanded, looking down at his baby, who was screaming his head off, his hands and feet flailing, his face screwed up.

“Sigyn came and sat with us, and then Jörmungandr needed the bathroom. I asked Sigyn to hold Fenrir for me, I thought it would be good for her to see him. When we came back, Fenrir was using magic on Sigyn, he seemed to have her in a trance. When I called her, she seemed to come back to herself and broke the connection with Fenrir. He started screaming and she ran away. I don’t know what he was doing or why she was so distressed but-”

“All right, all right,” said Loki in exasperation. “Just calm down Thor, and Jörmungandr stop pulling on me! Both of you sit down.”

Thor tugged Jörmungandr away and sat down, putting the boy on his knee and holding him there. Loki looked down at his baby and reached out with his own seiðr. It didn’t take long to recognise a severed connection that had left Fenrir’s seiðr flailing like his little fists.

“Shhh…” Loki crooned, gently smoothing his seiðr over Fenrir’s, soothing the damage away. Fenrir started to quiet as Loki began to pace up and down, humming a lullaby. It took a while, but Fenrir had exhausted himself with his screaming and Loki was eventually able to get him to sleep again. As soon as he was sure the baby was deeply asleep, Loki sat down and leaned into the soft cushions with a sigh of relief.

“Is Fenrir better? What did she do to him?” asked Jörmungandr, scooting off Thor’s knee to look down at the baby.

“He’s fine now, and Sigyn didn’t do anything to him,” said Loki, putting his arm around Jörmungandr’s shoulders. “In fact it was Fenrir doing something to Sigyn. I don’t know what exactly it was, but I think your brother recognised Sigyn, since she was the one who delivered him. He recognised her seiðr and reached out to her with his own, trying to forge a connection. But he’s too young to know how to do that safely, so when Thor broke the connection, it was upsetting for him. He just needed a little seiðr care. He’s fine now, though I suspect he’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

“Oh… so she didn’t hurt him?”

“No, she did not.”

Jörmungandr relaxed against Loki’s side, reaching up and playing with Fenrir’s foot. Loki, in turn, played with Jörmungandr’s hair until his eldest fell asleep as well. Only then did he relax and look at Thor. Thor still looked upset.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know, I know,” said Loki, “Honestly Thor, I know you only meant well. I would have preferred to be present for the moment Sigyn was able to hold Fenrir, but maybe that would have made it worse. My expectations for the moments I’ve been dreaming of seem to only make it more difficult.”

“Are you going to talk to Sigyn?”

Loki considered the question for a moment and although his instinct was to go straight to her, he was sure Sigyn would want to be left alone.

“Perhaps tomorrow. It’s been a long day, and I doubt she’ll want to see me right now.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Thor thoughtfully. “Her face when she looked at Fenrir… It was so like the look mother gives us.”

Loki’s heart gave a little leap, but he tried to ignore it. He would not be drawn to hope just yet.

“I should get these two up to bed,” he said, starting to move Fenrir against his chest so he could pick up Jörmungandr.

“Let me!” Thor stood up and scooped Jörmungandr into his arms. Loki thought his son looked even smaller curled up against Thor’s bulk. Together they walked to the lift. Thor waited until they were shooting upwards to say, “I know things didn’t go smoothly today, but I had fun with you and the boys. It was nice to spend time like that.”

Loki looked at Thor, who was smiling down at Jörmungandr and felt another little leap in his chest.

“I had fun too. I never let myself imagine days like this before. The boys were lost to me, and I couldn’t bear to tell you the truth. But… back when I was a prisoner, when Jörmungandr was not much bigger than Fenrir, I did sometimes dream about how you would treat him. I was sure if you could get past their conception, you’d be a good uncle.”

Thor gave him a look that matched his regretful tone. Loki played with Fenrir’s hand as he looked away, slightly embarrassed.

“Their conception means nothing to me Loki, you know that, don’t you?” said Thor quietly as they walked down the corridor.

“… I do. Now,” said Loki honestly. He saw Thor’s grimace, but Thor did not deny the point. They walked into Loki’s suite and set both boys on the bed. As both settled, their arms came up to rest above their heads, and Jörmungandr’s thumb slipped from his mouth.

“Shall we have a drink?” he asked Thor, who brightened and nodded. Loki picked up a bottle of whiskey that was set on the fine table in the middle of the suite. He tossed the bottle from hand to hand, then looked at Thor, “This is apparently worth seventy five thousand dollars. I have no idea how that converts but I’m guessing it’s a lot.”

Thor’s eyes widened slightly,

“I make less than that in a year in my employment with SHIELD.”

Loki arched an eyebrow at him, slightly surprised. It had never occurred to him that Thor had to have some source of income.

“Shall we drink it then? And you can tell me what you do that means you couldn’t afford this little bottle.” He grinned at the look on his brother’s face. As he poured the drink, Thor took a look around curiously at the various items piled up around the table.

“What is all this stuff Loki?”

“Gifts. Lots of companies want to be seen in the hands of the alien monarchs.” Loki waved his hand at a wristwatch gleaming in its case, “That’s a Rolex, apparently that means something. I’ve also been sent suits from all sorts of designers, disturbingly they all fit me very well.”

“Are you the only recipient?” asked Thor, taking the glass from him.

“No, everyone’s getting something, but I have noticed that myself and Sigyn have been sent the most clothing. I suppose it’s easier since we share such similar builds compared to the others. Aetril gets many backless dresses, and Berach gets a lot of trousers –they don’t seem to have a corresponding style for men.”

Thor snorted, “Well, you always did like your style, so I’m sure you’re quite happy to get such lovely things.”

Loki smirked, but did not deny it. Thor moved about the space, examining all the things Loki had been gifted.

“Would these gifts not be seen as a conflict of interest?” asked Thor thoughtfully. “It is a great concern on Earth.”

“Sigyn and Berach wondered the same. However, we cannot be bought by anyone, we are rulers of far more advanced worlds and I think that the companies will recognise this soon enough. In truth I think they’re just hoping for a bit of publicity. I’ve seen a dozen things online about how to reproduce Sigyn and Aetril’s hair styles, so it’s probably the same idea. It’s not as if that doesn’t happen on Asgard. How often did we see prostitutes wearing something that was a cheap copy of the dresses the women of the court wore?”

“Very true.”

They sat down and drank several glasses of the whiskey, chatting about whatever came to mind. Loki had an odd moment where he felt like he was watching the two of them from across the room and was struck by how much older they both seemed. It was the difference between youths and men. He had to shake off the odd feeling to focus on the conversation.

Sverrir came in about three hours later to say that Loki’s video had been mostly well received, but there were still plenty of people complaining.

“I wouldn’t worry about it though,” he said reassuringly, “It seems to be pretty typical for this sort of discourse. It might be a good idea to address Thor’s identity tomorrow, and maybe take Jörmungandr out for another excursion to emphasise that he’s just a child.”

“Hm, I’m not sure we should draw too much attention to Thor,” said Loki, “I don’t know how the humans will react to the revelation that he and his friends have been here for several years. They might not like that their planet was used as a proverbial dumping ground for misbehaving youths.”

“It was hardly so trivial,” said Thor, sounding sombre.

“Do you want to explain to the world that you are essentially a war criminal who murdered several hundred Jötnar?” asked Loki with a raised eyebrow. Thor sighed,

“No, not really.”

“Then we must minimise your actions as best we can.”

“We’ll need to be ready for King Helblindi to say something,” Sverrir warned, “He’s not likely to appreciate if we minimise Thor’s actions too much.”

“Thor attacked their world, their king attempted to kill ours. We agreed both sides had been foolish, it is done,” said Loki, a rush of protectiveness flowing through him. He did not want to put Thor in a painful position and disrupt the life he had built for himself. He still did not know how to bring Thor home and did not wish to see his brother suffer because of this.

Sverrir opened his mouth to speak, but Loki’s phone started to ring and, seeing that it was Sigyn, he answered it. However, it was not Sigyn who spoke on the other end.

“King Loki? It’s Steve Rogers.”

Loki’s whole body went cold, and he instantly knew that Sigyn had run off to fuck Rogers and Rogers was calling him from her bed where she was lying naked and sated with him to brag about it.

“Yes,” he spat before he remembered that Sigyn was currently physically incapable of having sex and would have no desire for it while her body was in that state.

“You need to come to Sigyn’s suite, she’s… I don’t know what’s wrong with her but she’s in a lot of pain and-” As if on que Loki heard a terrible sound like a wounded animal coming from further away. “Sir, you need to come here, she says you can help her-”

“I’ll be right there,” said Loki, hanging up and turning to Thor, “Something’s wrong with Sigyn, will you please stay with the boys?”

Thor nodded, a worried frown on his face as Loki ran out the door, down the corridor and banged his fist on Sigyn’s door. Steve yanked it open a second later and Loki heard Sigyn’s groan of agony. He shoved past Steve, expecting to see Sigyn lying in a pool of blood, or missing an arm, or something to explain the noises she was making. Instead he found her lying on the floor on her stomach, clawing at the carpet, her wig slipping and her face white with agony.

“What happened?” Loki asked the room, dropping to his knees next to her. “Sigyn, what is it?”

“I found her like this,” said Steve, sounding helpless. “I don’t know what-”

Sigyn let out another wounded cry and grabbed Loki’s arm in a desperate grip.

“Make it stop, make it stop Loki,” she cried, tears, snot and drool staining her face, her eyes rolling in pain.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Loki, trying to help her sit up. Sigyn grunted, digging her nails into his flesh, squeezing her eyes shut and gasped,

“Steve, please go. I don’t want you to see –please go!”

Loki looked at Steve, who had frozen.

“Go!” he barked. Steve obeyed, looking back at them as he left, his expression tight with concern. Loki tried to pull Sigyn up, but she was rocking and thrashing mindlessly, gabbling broken words. Pain seemed to have robbed her of coherent speech. How long had she been like this? It was nearly four hours since he had gone down to find Thor and the boys.

“What can I do Sigyn? What do you need me to do?” Loki begged, terrified that she was dying, that Fenrir’s seiðr had done something fatal. “Was it Fenrir? Where does it hurt?”

Sigyn could not speak for pain, and her skin was flushing white and red, marks appearing and disappearing on her face and arms. She reached up and grabbed the front of her top, ripping it apart and sending buttons everywhere. Loki stared at her bared chest, at what was there that had not been the last time he had seen her.

The last time Loki had seen Sigyn naked, her chest had been flat, without breast or nipple. Now, both were returned, but they were swollen and… leaking.

_Oh… oh shit._

Loki knew at once what had happened. Fenrir had recognised _mother_ and had set about using his potent but uncontrolled seiðr to make her what he wanted. He had broken Sigyn’s layers of seiðr that had rendered her sexless, and had brought back the breasts he wanted to suckle, forcing them to swell with milk. But such unrestrained seiðr had done its work too well. The breasts looked ready to explode, stretched and bloated beyond painful red to agonising white.

Loki was willing to bet that was not the only thing Fenrir’s seiðr was forcing to change. Sigyn was clutching her lower belly, one hand between her legs. Being forced to regrow a uterus and vagina must have been agony.

“Please, help!” Sigyn sobbed, pulling at Loki’s hand. Loki snapped himself out of his horrified stupor and called his seiðr to him, reaching out and trying to dry the milk up to ease her pain. His seiðr was rebuffed, Sigyn’s natural seiðr, unshackled by her spells was determined to restore her to her default form, running riot because of her distress. He tried again, but the milk would not leave her breasts. Sigyn howled as they continued to swell, he had to relieve the pressure to calm her panic, and then he might be able to undo the transformation. He touched the right breast, thinking to try and massage the milk to flow. Sigyn wailed in pain and he knew the skin and muscle was stretched too far for that.

He couldn’t think of any other alternative. Maybe if he had had time, maybe if Sigyn had not been screaming in pain like she was going to die, maybe he would have thought of something. But desperation drove him to do the only thing he could think of.

“Forgive me,” he said, before lowering his head, taking the nipple into his mouth and sucking, gently at first, then harder. Shrieking, Sigyn grabbed at his hair, yanking it painfully, but then the milk started to flow and she froze in shock, in horror, then let out a miserable sob and loosened her grip on him slightly.

It was excruciating to kneel over Sigyn like this, the humiliation of the act, the animalistic nature of it was almost unbearable. Loki quickly moved to the other breast to suck that nipple too, swallowing it all because spitting it out would have taken more time… and at this stage this could not be any worse. It tasted sweet, was thinner than he would have expected, and in a distant part of his brain, Loki found himself imagining doing this in a more pleasant situation. To his horror he felt a slight stirring of arousal. He closed his eyes tight, trying to kill the feeling, but the scent of her, the warmth and feel of her skin in his hands, it was impossible not to think of times he had spent hours pleasuring these breast, inhaled that scent… his head began to spin.

Sigyn’s desperate noises of pain started to die to hiccups, and her body relaxed as Loki sucked. Gradually Loki was able to connect with her seiðr and nudge it into stemming the production of milk. Sigyn went limp under him and he peeked up to see if she had finally passed out. Her dark eyes stared numbly down at him through heavy lids and Loki was almost grateful that she was still awake. Somehow if she had been unconscious this violation of her body would have been even worse to him.

It seemed to last hours, Loki’s face was burning with the humiliation he knew she was feeling, but eventually the milk stopped flowing. Feeling nauseous, Loki sat back, relieved to see that Sigyn’s breasts no longer looked inflamed or painful. They looked more or less as he remembered them, full with dark nipples. He waved his hand over them, sending waves of soothing pain relief through them and this time the seiðr sank in instead of rebounding. Sigyn lay quite still, she seemed only half aware now, the pain had taken a terrible toll on her.

Loki clambered back to sit on his heels, avoiding her gaze in his shame. He felt like he had just committed a terrible crime. His son had violated Sigyn’s body, and forced him to do the same. The argument that he had had no choice did not mean a thing to him right now, and he doubted it would mean anything to her.

Sigyn blinked slowly, then rolled onto her side, pushing herself to sit with her back against the couch, panting softly, her eyes shut. Loki did not know what to do but he could not stop his eyes from looking at every part of Sigyn’s body that was now on display. It was not just her sexless shape that Sigyn had been hiding.

A red scar starting just below her temple cut all the way down the side of her face. Her bald head had small but deep nicks peppered across it, whoever had hacked her hair away had not been worried about leaving the skin behind. Thin white scars curled around her shoulders and Loki knew there would be more of them on her back. Over her heart the word ‘Traitor’ had been cut into the flesh, and there were several small marks on her abdomen that looked like shrapnel wounds, as well as various scars over her arms that were probably from knife fights.

It had never dawned on Loki that Sigyn had looked too perfect for someone who had been through what she had experienced. It just seemed correct that such terrible experiences would leave no mark, Sigyn was too beautiful to be tarnished by such things in his mind. No, he admitted to himself, he just had not wanted to accept that she could really be so damaged by the things that had happened. He had been selfish in this, in most things regarding Sigyn, and he hated that she had to keep being brought low to make him recognise his own failings.

“I… I’m going to help you get into bed,” he said, his voice too loud in the awful silence. Sigyn’s head dropped forward, not in a nod, but more of a surrender. Loki got to his feet, then gathered her into his arms, recognising how thin she was. Sigyn put her arms around his neck, her head falling on his shoulder. The bumps and scars on her scalp rubbed against his jaw and cheek and he repressed a shudder.

Loki set her on the bed, then went looking for nightclothes. He found a pair of pyjamas that were big and soft, then turned back to Sigyn who had curled up a little on the bed on top of the covers. What was left of her top had fallen away and he could see the long thin scars across her back. Swallowing his disgust, Loki went back to her and gently helped her to sit up.

Sigyn was docile under his hands, allowing him to pull the over large t-shirt over her head. He offered her the bottoms and she struggled to push down her trousers. Loki knelt at her feet and helped her pull them off fully. He did not need to look past her underwear to know her sex was back, this close to her he could smell it. It was a scent that was intensely familiar and intimate. Loki pulled the bottoms up over her hips and then nudged her gently under the covers.

The covers were pulled up to her chin and then Loki drew a chair over to the bed to sit at her side. Sigyn was still awake, her dark eyes staring at nothing. Loki rubbed his hands together, calling up a spell of gentle, soothing magic that he passed over her. It would not make her sleep, just offer pain relief. Feeling a distinct and unhappy sense of déjà vu, Loki waited for her to stir.

After another two hours, when the sun was long gone, Sigyn blinked and shifted under the blankets. Loki watched her, holding his breath. Finally, she looked straight at him and Loki knew she was seeing him. Then she did something he would never have expected.

She smiled at him. It was a sad smile, a rueful one, but it was still more than he had expected.

“How do you feel?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.

“… drained,” she whispered and let out a giggle that turned into something sadder. Loki dragged his hands over his face,

“I am so, so sorry this happened –I swear I never imagined that Fenrir could do that.”

“So it was real?” asked Sigyn. “I really held my baby in my arms?”

“… yes, you held him.”

Sigyn’s chin trembled and a tear rolled down her face,

“It was like no time had passed… he knew me. He knew me Loki!”

Instinctively Loki reached up and stroked her temple with the back of his fingers.

“Yes,” he murmured, “He knew you Sigyn. He’s never forgotten you. When I first got him back, I wrapped him in an old scarf of yours and he was comforted by your scent. He knows you.”

More tears fell as Sigyn muttered,

“You said he was reverted back to his newborn state, you said the boys had no memory of anything. I thought that meant Fenrir had forgotten me.”

“No, no…” said Loki, keeping his voice as calm as he could manage. “Fenrir knows who you are.”

Sigyn smiled again,

“He’s perfect, he’s just like I dreamed.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head into his touch, heaving a deep sigh, “Oh I’ve missed this.”

At that point Loki knew she was high on the pain relief he had given her. He continued to stroke her face, willing her to just fall asleep and not say anymore. It might be truth, but it was not being shared of her own sober volition. Sigyn opened her eyes again and looked straight at him.

“I miss you, so much. It’s so hard to keep myself from just giving in to you. I lie awake at night and wish I could pull your arms around me.”

“Shhh,” said Loki gently, “You’ll regret being this open with me in the morning. Try to get some rest.”

“What’s one more regret to add to the list?” she asked wearily. “I tried to cut you out of me, but even with so much of myself locked away, I still long to be with you.”

“Shush,” Loki said a little more firmly, “This is not a conversation we can have right now. Believe me, I’d love to hear that you still love me and want to be with me, but you’re exhausted and you’ve had a terrible experience. You’re only saying this because of the pain relief.”

“Maybe… doesn’t stop me from feeling it every time I look at you.” Sigyn sat up a little, reaching for his collar and pulling him closer. Loki resisted half-heartedly, unable to stop himself melting into the kiss she placed on his mouth. It suffused him with warmth and desire such as he had not felt in so long and it almost broke him to pull away.

“Sigyn, I-”

“I know, we can’t now because this isn’t real,” she sighed, sinking back down into the pillows. “But how is it any less real than everything else we did? All of it was done with some sort of lies.”

“I didn’t lie to you about my feelings,” said Loki hoarsely.

“No… nor did I. But we never really expected to be together in the end. Everything was tinged with a certainty that we would inevitably be split apart by outside forces. That’s why it was so intense for so long, because there was always that certainty that this time would be the last time.”

Loki wanted to object on reflex, but he forced himself to really think about what she was saying. Finally he said,

“Maybe there was some element of that… but does that invalidate everything else?”

“No… but it is not a good foundation for a real marriage, especially a royal one. We liked to play the victims of fortune, but we could have actually fought back. What would be lost if I married you instead of Thor? Being married to him would have been impractical, because he would have been busy with Asgard and I with Vanaheim, we’d never see each other. You were the better decision, and maybe if we had tried to be honest with the realms we could have started a family, and enjoyed our time as princess and prince. But we were both too afraid to try.”

Loki took her hand and pressed it to his brow, squeezing his eyes shut. He did not know what to say, Sigyn’s words were hard to deny in this strange space between them. She had been the one who had been violated by seiðr, had been forced to endure a horrible humiliation, and yet Loki felt like he was also cracked open and exposed. Sigyn kept talking,

“I don’t know what would have happened if we had been open and public. Would we have really lasted? Then again, I am only half a person without you, so I suppose we would have if only so Vanaheim would have a monarch that could protect it.”

“You’re not half a person Sigyn,” Loki gasped, his throat constricted.

“I’m not a whole one,” she replied simply. “What am I if I am not your wife? Who am I if you do not take up my thoughts?”

“You are who you have always been. A woman who cares so much she will sacrifice everything for others. Whether that be one greedy princeling, or a whole planet of people, you will do whatever you have to care for them. Look at the lengths you were willing to go to to be a good queen? You’ve given up anything that makes you happy in the fear that it will distract you from being able to care for your subjects. You allied with that piece of shit Yggdrasil to fight Malekith-”

“I didn’t just ally with him,” said Sigyn softly. “I let him touch me, I let him crawl into my bed at night and try to rape me because I wasn’t clever enough to think of a better way to keep him under control.”

Loki had to swallow his bile, squeezing her hand as he tried to find his voice, but she was still talking,

“I watched the women who raised me have their heads cut off. Not quickly with a big axe, but with a small knife, like they were animals to be butchered. The sounds they made…” Sigyn retched and Loki grabbed the nearby bin. She brought up very little, but her whole body convulsed with the effort. Loki tried to spread more soothing seiðr and he eventually manage to make the retching stop. Sigyn sobbed miserably, clinging to the edge of the bed.

“I want my mothers! I want my sisters! It’s not fair that they’re all dead and I’m not.”

Loki stroked her back, making soft noises of comfort, but not trusting himself to be able to say anything that would help. What could he say? Sigyn covered her face with one hand, shaking with grief,

“It’s all my fault, I failed them. I let them die to keep a throne I don’t deserve and can’t control. I miss them so much. It hurts so much. I want to die, I want it to just stop. I’m not strong enough, I’m not smart enough, I just want it to be over with.”

Loki shifted from the chair to the bed, wrapping his arms around Sigyn and pulling her close so her face was buried in his chest.

“No! Sigyn I know it hurts, but this is not how it will always be. It will get better, I promise.”

“It won’t, how can you even pretend that it will?” she tried to sound angry, but she was clinging to him desperately.

“Because time will ease the pain, because you will find ways to be happy.”

Abruptly, Sigyn shoved at his chest,

“With you, you mean? Do you ever stop?”

They grappled, Loki trying to pin down her hands which were trying to hit him. Finally he managed to hold them down between them,

“No, not with me! Not with anyone if that’s what you need. But you will find a way to be happy, because you are resilient. Because you dragged me out of the pit of despair I fell into and I will do the same for you!”

Sigyn glared at him, the scar on her face stark against her pale skin,

“I don’t want to be saved!”

“Well too bad!” Loki snapped, “Whether you like it or not, I, Berach and Aetril will all do whatever we have to to save you, even if it’s from yourself.” He reached up and grabbed the side of her face, forcing her to look into his eyes, “You went through too much to give up now. You’re here, you’re still fighting despite yourself, because that woman who cares so much about everyone is still exactly who you are and you will never stop trying to be the best you can be. But you have to stop cutting pieces of yourself away to try and make yourself good enough, because all you’re doing is diminishing yourself.”

“Well thanks to your son, you got to see the full picture!” she spat, throwing him off, then swaying where she sat. Loki sighed and reached for her, trying to tuck her in again. Sigyn’s hand pulled free of his grip and she grabbed his hair, jerking his head down and crashing their mouths together. It was more of a bite than a kiss. Loki hissed, feeling his lip split under her teeth and he wrenched himself free from her grip. Sigyn’s eyes widened and flashed so she looked feral for a moment. Then the energy slipped away and her eyes dimmed as she sank back into the pillows, half conscious.

Frightened by how abruptly the change came, Loki seized her shoulders, shaking her a little,

“Sigyn? Sigyn look at me, come on, look at me.”

Sigyn moaned softly and looked at him blearily,

“Why won’t you leave me alone? Why do you dog my steps and darken my sight?”

Loki let her go and turned away, resting his elbows on his thighs, wiping away the blood that had trickled down his chin from her bite. There was a long silence. Then, Sigyn’s hand rested on his bicep, almost tenderly.

“I give in,” she said. Loki looked back at her, brow furrowed. Sigyn was white lipped but her eyes were clear.

“What?”

“I said I give in, Loki. My council has already agreed that you are the correct choice of husband. Part of their reasoning is that they know our history and think I’ll be happier with you. So, you win. I can’t fight anymore, it’s too hard. We can marry before our two realms, and I’ll give you children. I’ll smile and talk seiðr and whatever else you want me to do. Just… please, let me try to become a full person and not just your wife.”

It was as if she had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart to nothing. He reached out and touched her brow with his thumb.

“Sleep,” he said, pulsing seiðr into her. Sigyn’s eyes slid shut and her hand dropped away from his arm, hanging over the edge of the bed and looking so fragile. Loki studied her face, calm in sleep, the long scar still stark on her face. His throat had closed and his eyes burned as he ran a finger over the scar, wondering how she had gotten it.

“It was the transformation,” he murmured to himself, “All those hormones racing through her… her mind was not able to cope with the flood.”

It was probably true, he knew that the restoration of her natural body had probably opened a floodgates of chemicals in her system, vying with each other, each trying to do its job. A Bifröst excursion of highs and lows, arousals and depressions, all at the same time. Nothing she had said could be taken as wholly truthful or at least rational.

Still, the idea that she seemed to view a marriage to him as something to submit to was the most painful thing he could imagine. He wanted her to want it, but he had no idea how that could happen now. He did not understand why she would view it like this. She still loved him, but that fact only seemed to depress her, to make her feel hopeless.

_‘Let me try to be a full person and not your wife.’_

Loki gently lifted Sigyn’s outstretched arm and put it under the covers, then moved from the edge of the bed to his seat. He pulled the comforter stretched over the end of the bed up around him, feeling oddly cold. He settled in for a night-time vigil, turning his thoughts over until he fell into a fitful sleep. His dreams were broken and disturbing, flashes of an unhappy marriage that he would not let go of. When he woke for the tenth time and saw it was past sunrise, he decided that was all the sleep he was getting.

Rising from his chair, Loki folded the comforter and set it back on the bed. After writing something on a piece of paper, he set about making some tea, wishing he had access to some Alfheim calming tea. When the cup was made, he set it on the cabinet next to Sigyn’s bed. She was still sound asleep, but something had changed. Loki leaned closer, taking in every detail. Then he realised what he was seeing.

The finest fuzz of growing hair had appeared on her scalp. It was hard to be sure, but against her dark skin it seemed to be the nearly white colour it had always been. It eased a tiny bit of his tension. He straightened up, held his hands over Sigyn and closed his eyes, sending investigative seiðr strings out to check her physical and magical wellbeing.

Sigyn’s body was back to its original state, female with all the characteristics therein. Her seiðr had calmed but the channels it moved through inside her seemed bruised. It would probably take some time for her to recover her whole strength.

“Do you know how unsettling it is to wake up and see someone standing over you like that?”

Loki jumped and opened his eyes, looking down at Sigyn. She was watching him with an exhausted expression. He dropped his hands to his sides quickly,

“I just wanted to check-”

“It’s fine, I know what you were doing,” she said wearily, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Loki stood awkwardly, unsure if he should excuse himself or try to talk to her. Sigyn stretched, then groaned in pain, her arm curling around her breasts. Loki’s cheeks began to burn as the memory of last night reared in his mind.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting down so he was not towering over her.

“I know,” she sighed, pushing the blanket away and sitting on the edge of the bed. She swayed slightly, but caught herself before Loki could touch her. “Ugh, I feel like I’ve been squished into a ball and remoulded.”

“That’s not exactly far away from what happened,” said Loki with a shrug. Sigyn threw him an unamused look, then picked up the teacup. Loki hesitated for a moment, then said, “You should avoid using too much seiðr for a while, just until your body has recovered from… everything.”

Sigyn nodded over the cup. One hand let go of the cup and passed over her head, feeling the fuzz.

“Well, I suppose I know now why my hair wasn’t growing back.”

“Your system was in chaos, your seiðr was trying to protect you from the fear your mind is still processing. But I think that… along with the sheer stress of your position and your losses, the changes you made to yourself have made it harder for you to grieve and move forward.”

“Were you thinking up that little speech all night?” asked Sigyn dully.

“Maybe a little,” Loki admitted and her lips quirked upwards. A silence blossomed between them, not exactly comfortable, but not awful either. As she drained the cup and set it aside, Sigyn looked at him,

“I… thank you, for your help last night, with… fixing what your son did. I know it was not the easiest thing for you.”

“Please don’t thank me, I feel awful about it,” said Loki. “I never imagined… how could Fenrir do such powerful magic?”

Sigyn gave him a bitter smile,

“What do you remember of Fenrir’s birth?”

“Very little,” Loki admitted. “Except pain from him moving inside me, sickness from Angrboda’s magic, and you telling me everything will be fine.”

“You remember how I got him out? How I used seiðr to put my hands inside you?”

Loki nodded.

“I found him inside you, surrounded by a protective layer of seiðr, half yours half his. I had to rip it open to take him out. But I was not careful with it and I think when I did it he latched onto my seiðr. He and I have been connected ever since.”

“So when you held him, he tried to reform that connection.”

“Exactly, and because my seiðr was in such a state, and was so weakened by… everything, it was not able to stand up to the raw power of a baby acting on primal urges who was forged out of seiðr. Fenrir wanted me to be the nurturing mother he considers me and went about forcing me to be it.”

Loki grimaced and dragged his hand over his face.

“I’ll find a way to keep that from happening again –should you ever come into contact with him. Though now your own system is more settled it shouldn’t be likely.”

“Hm.” Sigyn reached up and touched the scar on her face, wrinkling her nose, “I’d almost forgotten about this, and the others.”

“Do they still hurt?”

“Not this one, but some of the others…” Her hand drifted to her shoulder, touching the awful marks.

“Sigyn… if you want to talk about them… I’ll listen,” said Loki cautiously. Sigyn arched an eyebrow at him and he dropped his eyes.

“I… thank you for the offer, but I don’t think it would be good for me right now.” Sigyn stood up and walked around his chair. He watched her cup a bouquet of flowers and inhale them, eyes closed with pleasure. “Hmm… I miss the smell of flowers. There are so few left on Vanaheim.”

Loki stood up, dithered on the spot, then said,

“I should go, I left Thor with the boys and by now Jörmungandr probably has Thor doing his bidding.”

Sigyn looked at him, a little smile on her face. She looked so unfamiliar, but there was a softness to her in the moment.

“I can imagine. He doesn’t like me, your son.”

Loki sighed,

“I may have… over emphasised you to him.”

“Of course you did,” said Sigyn, rolling her eyes. Loki took a step closer to her, his heart hammering and his hand hot around the piece of paper he had clenched in it.

“Sigyn, about what you said to me last night. That your council chose me to be your consort.”

Sigyn’s smile vanished and her shoulders tensed.

“Oh, yes.”

“I just wanted to say that I accept your proposal,” said Loki, trying to keep his emotions in check. Sigyn’s throat visibly moved and she nodded curtly,

“I see.”

“I have a few conditions though.”

“Oh?”

“When we are married, I will respect your desire to keep things… professional between us. I will not ask you for more than you are willing to give me, and I will not ask that you be a mother to my sons, or to start having children until you are ready. However, we cannot have even a functioning marriage alliance if you and I cannot trust each other. So I would ask that you and I work on that before we actually marry, perhaps by having regular evenings together where we converse over a meal.”

Sigyn bit her lip, but nodded. Loki was sure she was suspicious of his motivations, especially in regards to their intimacy. Perhaps his next words would help her believe him,

“I would like to have a more thorough discussion with you about what we both want out of this marriage, but I will say this now. I know you have been through a lot and you are not ready to consider the idea of sexual intimacy. Yet when you are ready, when you find someone who makes you feel good, whether it be for a night or for the rest of our lives, I hope you know I will do my best to be supportive because I want you to be happy more than I want you to be with me. I just ask that you don’t expect me to sit across the table from them.”

Sigyn stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly.

“You’re… are you really telling me to take a lover that isn’t you?”

Loki swallowed hard,

“I would prefer if you and I could be lovers again, but… I don’t want you to feel like half a person anymore. Whatever that means for you, you deserved to feel whole, and clearly I can’t help you there, not right now at any rate. Maybe my words don’t hold much weight now, but I want you to feel as loved as you deserve to be, which is far more than you realise. So… take a lover, take many, find people who make you feel good. I can’t promise I won’t feel jealous because I will, I will wish I could make you feel the way they all feel. But I will accept it, because I’m tired of trying to make us fit into an idea that never existed.”

Sigyn let out a snort, covering her mouth to hide her sudden grin. Loki gave her a startled, stung look. She waved her hand in front of her face as if to banish the smile but it remained in place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you mean what you say. It’s just… why does every big realisation of yours seem to come from my degradation? Why can you not just… think and learn from reflection?”

“It doesn’t seem to be one of my stronger skills,” said Loki sourly. “You know that if I think about something too much I tend to reach the worst conclusions.”

“True enough.” Sigyn looked away, shaking her head and folding her arms across her stomach. Loki chewed on his tongue, irked by her reaction to his gesture. Finally Sigyn leaned back against the wall and looked at him,

“Thank you for that, Loki. I’ll need to think about it.”

“Think about it?” repeated Loki in disbelief. “I’d have thought you’d be delighted by my words!”

“Why? You’re essentially throwing yourself on a sword you helped forge. You’re making yourself a bit of a victim again. The poor king who just wants his beloved to be happy, even if he must suffer as a consequence.”

“I didn’t-”

“What if I don’t want to be that kind of person? What if I decide I don’t want you to martyr yourself to our marriage? In that case it would be better if I rejected my council’s advice, and found another possible match.”

“You’d be a poor queen to reject it!” snapped Loki. Sigyn smirked and Loki inwardly cursed. He had walked right into her trap.

“I meant what I said!” he said quickly.

“You do now. But in the years that follow? The years where you’d watch me across the hall, stewing in resentment as I spent time with someone else, anyone else? No Loki I know you, you’d never hold that sort of restraint for long, and then where would we be?”

Loki clenched his hands into fists,

“Why don’t we find out?” he growled. Sigyn looked away, still smirking with amusement.

“One thing at a time Loki. First the Reset, then my people can begin to rebuild. After that, we can discuss your terms.”

Loki swallowed, he supposed after everything that had happened, that was more than he could have expected.

“I’m sure I’ll see you later, but if you need to take some time, I’ll tell the others.”

Sigyn gave him a sardonic look,

“I’ll see you later Loki.”

Loki nodded, started to turn, then remembered the paper in his hand. He turned back and held it out.

“Here.”

Sigyn took it with a suspicious look on her face. She unfolded it and read it through, her eyes widening as she understood what it was. Loki still found himself explaining,

“It’s a memory spell, for last night. It will blur my recollection of what happened. I’ll know something happened and it wasn’t pleasant, but the details will be gone, so you need not fear what I might do with the memory. I know that my own assurances will count for little right now, you need a real reassurance. This is it. Just follow the spell and you can take the memory away.”

Sigyn looked up at him, an expression of wonder on her face.

“You would let me do this to you? Enter your mind and take away a memory? You don’t even like drinking to a stupor for fear you would not remember what you did or had done to you.”

Loki nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep them steady.

“For you, after what happened… I’d be willing to do it. I know what it feels like to have someone humiliate you and then fear how it might be used against you. Whatever my intentions last night, I know how much that doubt, that fear, can drive you to distraction and misery. If this helps you, then I’m willing to do it.”

Sigyn stared at him shrewdly, clearly trying to figure out if this was an empty gesture or not. Loki knew he deserved the scrutiny, he had used these sorts of tactics to get what he wanted from others, even sometimes on Sigyn when she was annoyed with him in lesser instances. But this time he meant it. He had feared what Angrboda might tell people when he had dreamed of escaping. He knew what that fear could do to the mind.

Sigyn bit her lip hard, and her hand rose, reaching for his face. Loki stepped closer so she could touch her thumb to the centre of his forehead. Her hand trembled slightly as she touched him and Loki nodded into her hand, encouraging her to do what she needed to do. A muscle twitched in her cheek, and she screwed her eyes shut,

“Do not make me regret this, Loki,” she growled through gritted teeth, then dropped her hand away from him. She tapped the paper in her hand and it set alight, turning to ash. Loki was genuinely surprised and looked at her gratefully, dipping his head to her. Sigyn gave him a curt nod and Loki turned on his heels to get out of there as fast as he could.

“I know you mean well Loki,” she called. Loki paused, his hand on the door handle. He forced himself to look back at her. Sigyn was hugging herself, her scar stark against her dark skin. The oversized soft wool of her top, coupled with the return of her real curves, made her look softer and vulnerable, but also somehow less brittle.

“I just want things to be good again,” he admitted.

“And maybe they will, but are you prepared for the way it will look?”

Loki laughed quietly, his head hitting the door with a soft thunk,

“I don’t know.”

Sigyn gave him a helpless look, “Well maybe you should discover that before you make any more plans.”

Loki nodded against the wood,

“Maybe I should.”

He turned the handle, and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter nearly killed me. I’d been planning it for months, but actually writing it was really tough because of the mood shifts, the sheer difficulty of writing the horrible experience, and trying to find a way to move the relationship to the next step.
> 
> If you're enjoying this work, please consider buying me a cup of [coffee](Ko-fi.com/notrudeginger)


	36. Who You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Yuletide Everyone!! Hope whatever you’re doing in this bleak time of year is making you smile.   
> I think the story’s pace will pick up a bit now, as the last chapter got through much of the emotional baggage that was keeping it at a slow pace. Now it should be about healing, and moving forward.   
> Enjoy!

Loki entered his suite feeling like he had travelled a very long distance. He stopped short as he crossed the threshold. Steve Rogers was snoring on the couch he had sat on with Thor drinking and talking while Sigyn had been suffering. He didn’t look very comfortable, the couch was too short for a man his height, but he had a pillow and blanket so it wasn’t just that he had nodded off at some point.

Loki frowned at him, then walked through to his bedroom. He smiled faintly to see Thor snoring, sprawled on his back on the bed, his arm thrown out to encompass the sleeping boys. Loki stepped up to the bed, reached out and tickled Thor’s foot. Thor snorted in his sleep, then jerked awake.

“Wha –damnit Loki!”

“You looked so peaceful brother, I couldn’t resist.”

Thor grunted, then hurled the nearest pillow at him. Loki caught it, smirking at his brother.

“Did my sons wear you out?”

“Fenrir drinks a lot of milk, and Jörmungandr doesn’t like the children’s show I tried to introduce him to. I thought he’d like a show about talking horses, unicorns and pegasus.”

“Hm, so would I,” said Loki, shrugging. “I’ve yet to determine what pattern my son’s preferences fall to.”

Thor stretched and yawned like a large dog, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“So what happened? Is Sigyn all right?”

“She’s fine… well, she’s no longer in pain,” said Loki with a sigh. “Fenrir’s magic did… quite a number on her. But I was able to fix it.”

“Good, good. Steve will be relieved.”

“Why exactly is he asleep on the couch?”

“Because it was the only alternative to the floor outside her rooms that he would agree to,” said Thor. “He was very worried about her.”

Loki nodded, telling himself that such concern was appropriate and good, but he was unable to douse the possessive flame in his gut.

“Were you tending to her all night?” asked Thor.

“Not all night, she slept for a good while, but I wanted to be sure she was all right.”

“And you wanted to be near her as long as possible, right?” Thor threw him a knowing grin and Loki actually felt himself blush. It was weird being teased like this by Thor. Fenrir let out a soft grumble as he stirred, and Loki picked him up, setting his head on his shoulder. He sniffed, noticing that Fenrir needed a change.

“Where are the windel?” he asked, looking around.

“Here!” Thor pointed to the nearby table where the changing things were sitting neatly in preparation. “He only needed changing twice during the night.”

“You changed him?” asked Loki in disbelief, “Damn, I’m sorry I missed that.”

Thor scrunched his nose at him,

“Ha, ha,” he drawled, “And I only did the second one. Steve did the first one.”

“… oh.” Loki was not sure he liked that information.

“Well I didn’t have a clue and Sverrir was gone. Steve used to look after children in his neighbourhood when he was a youth, so he knew what to do.”

“Hmm,” Loki mumbled, laying his son down on the mat and pulling the windel open.

“Is she really ok?” asked Thor, watching him curiously.

“…probably not. But I think, I hope, that she’s through the worst of it and now it’s all about healing.”

“That’s good. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Loki paused in his wiping of Fenrir’s bum to consider the question,

“Honestly? I have no idea. Last night was… awful. I hope never to go through something like that again. But Sigyn said… she said she doesn’t feel like a whole person with me, and I have no clue how to deal with that fact.”

Thor frowned,

“That is ridiculous!”

“If it’s how she feels, we cannot just dismiss it.”

“But Loki, I’ve seen how you two were together. Compared to how I knew her before, I’d say that being with you made her a whole person!”

Loki gave him a half smile as he sealed the new windel on Fenrir, then picked him up and smiling at the big yawn he got in greeting,

“Good morning, how’s my boy?” he cooed, not bothering to suppress the stupid grin on his face as Fenrir rubbed the backs of his hands against his own cheeks. “Hungry? I bet you’re hungry, yes.” He set Fenrir’s head on his shoulder and looked for the bottle, only to notice Thor’s equally stupid grin. “Shut up Thor.”

“It’s just, you’re so comfortable with him, like this is your natural state. It’s strange and yet fitting.”

“I’ve had five years with him and nearly a thousand years of wishing he was with me. I enjoy every second I have with them.” Loki rested his cheek on the top of Fenrir’s head and inhaled the soft, powdery scent that filled him with warmth. Thor looked at him soppily and Loki nudged him aside just to make him stop. If only Odin could see them now.

Thor crossed the room and poked Steve in the shoulder,

“Awake my friend! It’s morning.”

Steve snorted and then sat up with a jolt, looking around in surprise. When he saw Loki he flushed and cleared his throat.

“Oh, good morning King Loki.”

“Good morning Captain Rogers,” Loki replied coolly.

“How –is Sigyn ok?” he asked with open concern.

“She –she is well now, but it was a difficult night for her, and myself. If she wishes for you to know more I’m sure she will tell you.”

Steve nodded, standing up and wiping his mouth self-consciously. Loki found a bottle, warmed it with a quick tap of his hand, then sat down to feed Fenrir. Thor helped himself to some of the chocolates that someone had sent to Loki, then call,

“Morning Jor!”

Jörmungandr padded in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning,” said Loki, shifting Fenrir’s bottle to the same arm that was supporting him and reaching to hug his eldest in greeting. Jörmungandr wrapped his arms around Loki’s neck, resting his mussy head on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” Jörmungandr mumbled. “Hungry.”

“Well, get dressed and we’ll see about breakfast,” said Loki. Jörmungandr nodded, but he did not let go. He seemed a little clingy and Loki indulged it. Thor looked soppy again, but he quickly looked away when Loki caught his eye. Steve shifted on his feet, looking like he wanted to say something, but before he could, his phone beeped. He checked it and looked uncomfortable.

“I, ah, I should go and, um…” he waved vaguely at the door with his phone.

“It’s fine,” said Loki, looking directly at him. “Go and look after her.”

Steve met his gaze and a kind of understanding passed between them.

“I’ll see you both later,” Steve said and walked out. Thor gave Loki a funny look and Loki shook his head slightly. He had meant what he had said this morning to Sigyn. If having a new lover would help Sigyn be happy, he would not get in her way. He would have to prove it through actions before she would trust him again.

After all, he had his sons, his mother, his brother and closer friends than he had ever had before. How could he deny her having one person who cared about her?

**~*~**

Sigyn stared at her reflection, tracing the line of the scar on her face. She had spent so long hiding the scars that she had almost forgotten what they looked like. This one in particular was especially an irritant. It had been acquired during what had been a rather minor skirmish compared to everything else. She had been running from a horde of Malekith’s forces and tripped, her face scratching against a sharp rock. That the most obvious scar was from something so stupid when the worst fights had not left such obvious marks was infuriating.

Reaching up, Sigyn passed her hand over her head, feeling the soft brush of stubble, finally growing again. It was slightly surreal, like she was in the wrong body as she dragged that hand down her neck and over her breasts. They felt familiar and alien in the same moment, sensitive to her touch in a way she did not recall them being before. There was a dull ache in them, and her nipples felt raw from Loki’s sucking.

Sigyn’s face burned with humiliation as she remembered how it had felt to have him wrap his lips around her nipple, tongue working against it to encourage the flow of milk.

Once she might have fondly anticipated such an experience, back when she and Loki had lived in their own bubble. She had always been thinking about new things they could explore in their sex life, always asking for new ways they could try.

Thinking back, she knew that part of that was because she had been chaffing at the bubble’s yoke around her neck. They had called their times together, their trips to Midgard and the time in Loki’s rooms, ‘our freedom’, but it had been a lie. They had been trapped, trapped in a cage that they had built for themselves.

Loki had left one cage, made by Angrboda, and built a new one for himself with her help.

No matter how hard Sigyn had tried, she had never been able to pull all of Angrboda from Loki’s behaviour. She had had him too long, too young, and through their children, he could never truly banish her from his mind. He enjoyed his travels, but he always retreated back into a cage.

Sigyn found she missed the cage too, when the world outside became too much. Yet now she could not retreat. She had to stand and fight, and ignore the lure of the golden cage.

Her hand strayed down to her belly, feeling her womb which ached from being returned to her against her will. Somehow the fact that it had been a baby and not a man, not Loki, made the return less offensive. She still wished she had been the one to make the decision, but at least it had been an un-malicious, un-manipulative act. It had been… honest. Fenrir wanted a mother, he had tried to make her one, simple as that. She did not have to like it to understand it.

The hand strayed lower, but she pulled it back before anything could be touched. She was not ready to reconnect to that part of herself. There was too much wrapped up in it, too many conflicting thoughts and feelings. Sigyn knew she would have to come to terms with it, that she would have to use that part of herself to her advantage, whether it be for getting something from someone, or to produce Vanaheim’s next ruler.

There was a knock on her door and she jumped.

“Sigyn? It’s me,” called Steve’s voice. Sigyn grabbed for her wig automatically, then caught her own eyes in the mirror. She saw herself in the morning rays and found herself struck by the fear on her face. She was so afraid of what anyone would say about her if they saw her as she really was, if they saw her as anything other than composed and whole. Yet how much did anyone really believe in that image?

Berach looked at her with the kind of concern and love she had seen on Loki’s face when he talked of the boys. Helpless, but still devoted. A father’s love. He clearly did not believe the illusion. Aetril was too clever, too wise, to not see past her. Loki had seen all of this, so the three people she had most wanted to hide all of this from, had either never been fooled or now knew the truth.

Sigyn found herself letting go of the wig and turning away from her own reflection. She crossed the room, pausing only to pull a dark hooded top over her head. She hesitated when she touched the handle, resting her forehead on the door.

“Sigyn?” called Steve softly. He sounded worried. Sigyn squeezed her eyes shut. She did not know what to do with that sort of concern. Steve was not hired to care about her and he was not her lover or parental figure.

“Please don’t react,” she said, her voice tight as she turned the handle and pulled the door open, staying behind it as Steve walked in. She heard him turn to her, and swallowed against a dry mouth.

“Are you ok? Loki said you were ok, but… you don’t seem to be.”

Sigyn banged her head lightly against the door, trying to summon her courage.

“I… something happened last night. My magic was –was attacked by another’s. Loki’s baby boy, he used primal magic on me, and my magic has been brittle since the end of the invasion of my world.”

Steve didn’t reply straight away and when he did, his voice was cautious,

“Can you look at me, please?”

Sigyn screwed up her face, trying to make herself turn. She needed to do this, how could she face her subjects or Midgard’s media if she could not face a single person? Slowly she managed to turn around, pressing back against the door as she pushed her hood back. She couldn’t look higher than Steve’s knees, but she heard the sharp intake of breath as he took her in.

“I’ve been living a lie,” she admitted, unable to keep the self-loathing out of her voice, “I’ve hidden behind an attractive shell, to fool everyone into thinking that I’m… I’m undamaged by what happened to my world. But the truth is that this is what I am. I’m damaged and useless, not fit for ruling and-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” said Steve, stepping up and touching her shoulder. Sigyn started at the contact and looked up at him. Steve’s eyes roamed over her face, following the path of the scar, then met her eyes calmly. “Everyone hides parts of themselves, everyone can be ashamed of how they look. I was ashamed of how I looked for most of my life.”

Sigyn raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Steve gave her a little grin,

“Before I looked like this, I was a short, scrawny kid who couldn’t pass a fitness test. I’m only like this because of a brilliant scientist, and there are days when I still get surprised by my own reflection.”

“It’s a little different for you though, you look so…” Sigyn drank in his looks and was alarmed to realise how attractive Steve was. She had been perfectly aware of his handsome aesthetic yesterday but today… her belly gave a little flip.

_‘Oh no…’_

Sigyn looked away from him to try and stem the sudden rush of heat that flooded her. Could she not control herself for even a day?

“Hey,” said Steve again, touching her elbow. “Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I’m just… I’m struggling to find the courage to leave this room like this.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, then said,

“Maybe I’m completely off the mark here, but why do you have to?”

Startled, Sigyn looked up at him. Steve tilted his head from side to side as if weighing his words, then said,

“Look, I’m always going to be a man who prefers direct honesty to anything else. I’m not a politician or anything like what you are. But I don’t think this is about your public image, at least, not completely. I think right now this is about how you think you should be versus who you are.”

“Is that not what I just said?” she asked wearily.

“You said you have to go out like this, with the scars and no wig, right? Why do you have to do that?”

“Because I can’t continue to be a coward!”

“But no one else at this meeting is trying to expose themselves this way. All of Earth’s politicians are dressed in their best clothes and manners. The other monarchs probably aren’t thinking that they should go out there feeling at their worst. So why should you?”

“Because I… I…” Sigyn’s voice failed her as she struggled to find a logical response to the question. When nothing came, she closed her mouth, unable to articulate the feelings in her chest and turned away again, dropping into the nearest chair and burying her face in her hands. She heard Steve move to sit opposite her, giving her space. She inhaled deeply through her nose and looked at him.

“Do you swim?” she asked.

“Uh, haven’t in a long time. Back in my time I plunged an enemy ship into the ocean and was frozen. That’s why I’m here now. If it was for a mission, I’d probably be willing to swim but not for fun.” A minute shiver passed through him and she could see the shadow of fear cross his expression.

“Sometimes when I came here with Loki, when we got good at shapeshifting, we would cross oceans as sea creatures.”

Steve’s mouth fell open in wonder,

“You could turn into… wow!” His boyish excitement pulled a little smile from her. “What could you turn into? Mermaids?”

Sigyn chuckled,

“It’s not a practical shape for long distance travelling. Why? Do you have a fantasy about being a sailor catching a mermaid in his net?” The words fell from her lips so easily that she did not realise the teasing tone she had used until Steve was already flushing red and squirming.

“I didn’t mean, I just… how does it work?” he said quickly.

“It’s hard to explain if you don’t understand seiðr theory. It’s different to altering our appearance, because it isn’t just an external change. We almost think like the creatures we become, but we don’t lose ourselves in it.”

“So what do you turn into?”

“For the longest travels we would become whales or sharks, but we might change to another creature to explore interesting places. Besides, stretching yourself to such a huge size is draining. I liked being a… what would you call it? It’s a very flat creature, with beautiful wings, gliding through the water effortlessly.” Sigyn extended her arms, rippling them to give an effect of the animal.

“A Stingray?” asked Steve, quickly pulling an image up on his phone and showing her.

“Yes, like that,” Sigyn nodded. “We could explore much more easily in that form. Once we came across a field of crabs and watched them shed their shells and regrow them. They have to break their old shells to grow, but when the new shell is hardening they’re soft and vulnerable. I feel like those crabs right now, my shell is gone and I’m vulnerable to attack.”

Steve nodded as if he understood and Sigyn felt that he actually did.

“So if that’s how you feel, why are you trying to force yourself to be public with it?”

Sigyn gave him a sardonic smile, waving a hand at her face and head,

“Because this is what I am. This is all I am.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully, then clasped his hands together between his knees.

“I have a friend, his name is Sam, and he works with people who have served in my country’s military. Some of them have lost limbs, or have some other visible damage from battle. Sam tries to help them come to terms with their experiences and their losses. Talking to him, and thinking about the people I’ve served with past and present, I’ve learned that it’s not healthy to allow your scars to define you.”

Sigyn looked down at the floor, biting at her lip.

“You don’t understand…”

“Do you want to expose your scars because you’re proud of them, or because you want to punish yourself?”

Sigyn’s head snapped up,

“What does that mean?”

“Look, I don’t know you very well, I’d like to, but right now we’re still getting to know each other. So I don’t know who you were before all of this, but the way you talk about it makes me think you’re not happy with your perception of yourself. Your scars are a part of you, sure, but you get to decide how much they define you.”

Sigyn shook her head slightly, but did not speak. Steve stood up and held out his hand. Curious, Sigyn took it and let Steve lead her back to the mirror. Steve stood her in front of him, before the mirror,

“Do you want these scars on display?” he asked. Sigyn could not stop herself from shaking her head, ashamed of her own cowardice. “Sam says that a lot of the people he works with would rather they could hide the damage done to them, because they don’t like that the scars define them to other people. Are your scars who you are? Because if they aren’t, you don’t need to force yourself to show them.”

“But then I’m lying to my people, my vanity is more precious to me than the truth!”

“Is that really what you’re doing, or are you representing your best self?” Steve stepped around to stand at her side, “When I first put on the Captain American uniform, I did feel I was only pretending to be a hero. I kept waiting for someone to pull the cowl off and say, ‘You’re nothing but a sickly kid from Brooklyn, go back where you came from.’ I still feel that way sometimes. But I’ve learned that when I wear that uniform it helps inspire me to be the person I want to be.”

Sigyn smiled bitterly,

“Dress as the person I aspire to be, not the person I feel like?”

“To a point. You should like who you are, so it’s about finding the balance, or so Sam tells me.” Steve looked at her, they were almost the same height, and he squeezed her fingers, “Like I said, we don’t know each other well, but I don’t feel that you’ve shown me a false version of you, or the public face. I like what I’ve seen, but if you don’t, then that’s ok, because I want to know who you feel you really are.” Steve looked into the mirror, bringing Sigyn’s eyes back to her own face. “What I’ve learned the last few years is that some people wear their scars as badges of honour, evidence of their bravery and strength in surviving, but many others would prefer if they could hide or heal their scars, because they don’t want to be defined by them.”

Which did Sigyn want?

“I’m not proud of how I got these scars,” she admitted, “I did what I had to, or the best I could come up with. None of these were gained in victory, and looking at them just reminds me of those awful times. I don’t want to be reminded by my own reflection, I see the results all around me back home. How can I help my people move forward if I’m constantly remembering the past?”

“If that’s how you feel, why are you trying to make yourself expose them to the others? If you don’t want to be defined by them, can’t you use your magic to heal them?”

“I… I don’t…” Sigyn’s throat closed and she looked away.

“I’m sorry,” said Steve at once, “I’m pushing too hard.”

“No, no you’re right, I know you’re right. I’m being so self-absorbed.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but if you feel that way, what are you going to do about it?” asked Steve. Sigyn inhaled slowly, passing her hands over her head. What was she to do now? She needed to be strong for her people, but what was strength in this context? Exposing her scars, her damage to people she did not trust? That made no sense, what would be the point? Yet just covering them up felt like cowardice.

Sigyn closed her eyes, took a deep breath, summoned her seiðr, which flared weakly and passed her hands over her head again. This time she was stimulating the hair to grow and to her amazement, it responded. Hair started to grow under her fingers, covering her scalp and moving down to her neck. She stopped as it tickled the base of her skull, opened her eyes and looked at her reflection. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the familiar colour of her own hair, and was struck with a painful recognition.

“I look like me!” she gasped, touching the cream coloured hair that felt as soft as a babe’s, her chin wobbling with the sudden surge of emotion. It was true, with the return of her hair and her curves, she realised how much she had not recognised herself for so long. The figure in the mirror had been a desperate mix of things she had hope would strengthen her, but it had been like wearing someone else’s face.

With trembling fingers, she reached up and traced the scar on her face, murmuring seiðr words. The skin around the scar tingled and it faded away until it was only the faintest shadow. She could have healed it completely but something made her leave just that bit. She ran her fingers through her hair again and shaped it so it was a short, layered style that she had never really had before, feathered bangs falling into her eyes in a way that felt protective.

With her seiðr feeling shaky after this use, she decided to just use clothes to hide the rest of her scars.

“How does that look?” she asked Steve softly. He smiled and squeezed her hand again,

“You look good, Queen Sigyn.”

She let out a shaky laugh and squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s only now as I go to post that I realise that the chapter title is basically the catchphrase of Moana XD But that’s ok, because I liked Moana! Baby Moana is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in animated form.  
> Hopefully Steve isn’t too preachy. I didn’t want him to be that cringy version of himself that was in Spiderman. I don’t think it was too far since usually these morals would have pushed Sigyn to bear her scars openly, but I don’t think that’s always the answer, especially when magic or technology can help heal them. It was an interesting conversation to write as I wasn’t quite sure what the resolution would be.   
> If you enjoy this story please consider buying me a cup of coffee –see below link. It would be a great help to me.


	37. The Spy

_“Breaking news here at TMZ!! Queen Sigyn has a brand new look and maybe a brand new beau!”_

_“After a **disastrous** private excursion for King Loki and his kids with an unknown man who looked super cosy with the Asgardian monarch, Queen Sigyn stepped out the next morning with a shocking pixie cut and none other than Captain America himself, Steve Rogers. Sources say that the ice queen has been melting for the hot retro stud ever since she first arrived and from the grin on Cap’s face, he’s doing the same._

_“Rumour has it that the two have not only been spending all their time together, they’ve been discussing the possibility of ‘going steady’ to use a term Captain America would recognise, and the idea of marriage is already floating around. Earth may already have its first interplanetary celeb power couple-”_

“What is wrong with these people?” demanded Berach, staring at the tablet screen Loki had wordlessly handed to him. “We’re about to perform an untested magical ritual and they want to gossip about a haircut and a friendship?”

“Apparently,” sighed Helblindi, looking at his brother. “You’ve got competition By.”

“Shut up,” grunted Byleist, but Loki was certain he was blushing.

The door to Berach’s suite opened and Aetril walked in with Sigyn.

“Where have you been? We were looking everywhere for you!” demanded Berach.

Sigyn raised a cool eyebrow at her old mentor as she pulled off her gloves,

“I was out for a walk, the chill is bracing and Moscow is lovely. What exactly is the matter?”

Berach held out the tablet. Sigyn took it and replayed the video. They all waited with baited breath for her to panic or clamp down intense rage. Loki was tempted to duck, considering Sigyn’s recent system reset he had been waiting for her to lose her temper explosively. To everyone’s astonishment, Sigyn did not get upset by the video. Instead she grinned,

“They really are a nosy people, aren’t they? Well, I suppose we can just let them gossip if it keeps them from causing delays on our side.”

“… you’re not angry?” asked Loki in disbelief. Sigyn shrugged, still looking amused.

“It’s just gossip. I know it isn’t true, and I suspect if it wasn’t Steve it would have been someone else. Humans like to see women paired off, it keeps them in familiar boxes. Now, how are we doing with the location?”

“Um,” Berach looked as wrong-footed as the rest of them, but he recovered quickly and said, “It’s been a challenge to find the right spot. Already parts of Midgard are feeling the effects of the approaching Convergence, and that is delaying our search as we must eliminate them first.”

“So my seiðr experts tell me,” said Sigyn thoughtfully. “What have we learned about that place in Tibet that was oozing seiðr signals that we did not recognise?”

“It appears to be some sort of congregation of human seiðr users, probably a school, but when my envoy approached it, she was not able to get in,” said Aetril.

“Nor mine,” said Loki. “The seiðr is unusual there, but perhaps it is merely human seiðr and it is as different as mine is to Sutur’s people’s.”

General Sina hummed in agreement.

“I believe the best place will be here, in a land called Syria,” said Byleist, showing them a map on his tablet. “There seems to be a lot of energy there.”

“Syria and the surrounding lands have been the centre of a lot of human conflict, culture and spiritual belief,” said Sigyn thoughtfully. “It would make sense for it to have a lot of energy seeped in it.”

“It’s also a war zone at the moment,” said Helblindi. “Many aggressive factions are doing battle there. It may not be possible to get to it.”

“Perhaps proximity to it will suffice,” said Aetril, “Where are things most stable in that region?”

Loki had to repress a snort of dark amusement. He had visited that region with Sigyn more than once. It had always been a tumultuous place, and did not appear to have changed. Regardless, that might have been the very reason it was probably the ideal location. A lot of energy had built up in there because so many faiths had battled on the soil. Such activities could leave behind more than blood on stone.

“Let us consult with the U.N. and see if we cannot find a place. We need to construct a structure within which we will perform the ritual. It needs to be a beacon, able to push the seiðr through the fabric of space-time to the rest of Yggdrasil,” said Berach with a decisive nod.

“Have we agreed on who will be performing this ritual?” asked Helblindi, looking at his younger brother in open concern. “Whoever does participate will be vulnerable for the duration.”

“I will be performing it on behalf of my people,” said Sigyn at once. Loki thought he sensed some nervousness in her tone, but she looked calm.

“As will I,” said Aetril, resting her hand on Berach’s shoulder. “My children will do their part on Alfheim.”

“I will be enacting my part here,” said Loki, “My mother and other seiðrkona will be working it on Asgard.”

“My master has not yet revealed who he intends to send here for it,” said Sina, “I shall press him for a decision.”

“What of Jötunheim?” asked Sigyn, smiling at Byleist who shifted on his feet. It was still very strange for Loki to see him in Aesir sized form, even if he was still blue and horned.

“We have few seiðr users these days, we are seeking them across the planet so we will have enough,” said Helblindi. “Byleist insists on staying here and doing our part for the ritual.”

“Really?” asked Sigyn, sounding delighted. Byleist inclined his head.

“I wish to do my part.”

“And you surely will,” said Sigyn, reaching out and touching his shoulder affectionately. Byleist looked startled, but pleased at the motion. Loki tried to strangle his jealousy before anyone saw it on his face.

“What about you, Dökkálfar?” growled Berach, his wings beating slightly in a threatening manner. Enfys squirmed where he stood, then said in a dignified voice,

“We have found several willing participants for the ritual on this world, and many more to cover our own planet. Svartalfheim will be ready when the time comes.”

“Good,” Berach snapped, turning away as if he could not stand the sight of the dark elf anymore. It seemed that the more time passed, the angrier Berach grew over his distant relations’ actions on Vanaheim. Sigyn actually rolled her eyes at him, before sweeping her bangs out of her eyes. The faintest silver flash in the light was all Loki could see of her facial scar. He did not know why she had healed it so far and then stopped, but she did not seem worried about hiding it. She had stopped wearing so much make up and colours, her hair was the same shade of cream all over, the streaks of her parents, Svana and Ey were gone. Even her clothing seemed less imposing and much more practical. This was the way Loki had remembered her, and he was glad to see her this way.

Even if it did mean he had a… rising problem every now and then when he stared too long.

“So, unless we have any unexpected delays, we should be ready when the time comes,” said Sigyn in a satisfied voice.

“Indeed, it looks like we’re actually going to pull this off,” said Aetril, shaking her head in wonder. “It will be an event that will still be talked about when all of us are dust.”

“I’ll settle for a decent harvest next year,” said Sigyn.

“And what then?” asked Byleist. They all looked at him and he said, “What comes after? It’s all very well to take advantage of this rare event but are we just going to go back to the way things were before? Jötunheim cut off, Asgard shining in the centre as if it didn’t get there through blood and death?”

Loki scowled but Aetril cut across him,

“Of course not. I for one would be very disappointed if Jötunheim was left out, or Alfheim considered unimportant.”

“Things have changed too much to go back,” said Loki, perching himself on the back of the couch. “They will never be that way again. They can’t be.”

“I ask again, what comes after the convergence?” said Byleist. Loki regarded his half-brother, seeing his own frustration and anxiety looking back at him.

“I suppose that’s up to us,” said Sigyn quietly. “We who are gathered here have a terrifying number of people looking to us for guidance, protection and prosperity. I think the fact that we can all stand in this room together is a good sign for the future.”

“Agreed,” said Berach, “Personally I’d like more trade and exchange of knowledge and people.”

“My world hasn’t exactly benefitted from that,” said Helblindi, his voice low and almost morose. It reminded Loki of the tone Laufey had used all those years ago, when Thor had gone to Jötunheim spoiling for war.

How things had changed.

A silence fell among them and they all looked at each other, as if they all had the same idea, but did not want to be the one to voice it. Loki said nothing, because he knew it could not come from Asgard, so he looked to Sigyn. Sigyn’s lips twitched and she looked across the room to Byleist, seemingly passing the chance to him.

Finally, it was Sina who spoke,

“My master Sutur believes that there should be more regular communication between us. Perhaps after the Reset we can reconvene at regular intervals and attempt to form a more regular process of interactions.”

“I agree,” said Aetril, looking around at them all. “We must enter into a new form of cooperation.”

“Agreed,” said Sigyn, though Loki thought she threw Enfys a strange look as she said it.

“What say you, Asgardian?” asked Helblindi coolly. Loki arched his eyebrow at him, then said,

“An exchange of knowledge between the worlds? Sounds like Valhalla to me.”

Aetril chuckled quietly and Sigyn rolled her eyes again, looking faintly amused. As the group broke up, Sigyn came up next to him, and said in a quiet voice,

“I seem to remember when you were crowned you spoke about forming a Council of the Nine. Looks like you got your wish.”

Loki looked at her, and she smiled wryly at him. He had to think for a moment, it had been six years ago, but then he remembered the conversation they had had in his bedchamber. About preventing war with Jötunheim, about undoing the damage done by Asgard’s heavy hand. It felt odd to think about now.

“It wouldn’t have happened without you,” he said honestly.

“Probably not,” said Sigyn with a shrug and that little smile. Loki smiled in return.

“You seem to be feeling better, I’m glad to see it.”

The smile slipped a little, becoming something more pensive,

“It’s like I’ve been in a sort of half dream for so long, but I didn’t realise I was asleep.” She looked down at her gloves, toying with them a little, then looking at Loki again, “I still feel the same way about many things, but it’s not as raw as before. Steve’s been very good, he lets me talk myself out.

“Then I’m glad he’s there for you,” said Loki.

“Are you really?” asked Sigyn, arching her eyebrow at him. Loki considered the question, then nodded,

“Yes. I wish I could help you as much as he is, but I’d rather he be there than no one.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes, but looked amused,

“You know I’m starting to believe you.”

“Well, I’m glad someone is, because I still don’t,” Loki quipped, winning a chuckle from her.

“You’re a ridiculous man, Loki Odinson.”

“Ah, but it keeps things interesting!”

**~*~**

Syria was declared an absolute no go, so a city called Jerusalem was offered. It was decided that it too would not work, as it was not close enough to the location in Syria to make the most of it. The next best choice was in the heart of Mexico City, in the main square known as Zócalo. It was kept quiet to keep people from massing, either for or against the ceremony. Also, it was hinted that certain neighbours of Mexico would not take the selection well, regardless of explanation.

Now came the part where all of their collaboration on seiðr theory was brought together. Loki found himself forgetting his worries while they planned everything out. It was going to be the most fascinating working he had ever participated in, and it was hard to suppress his giddiness. The others who were similarly minded, like Berach and Sigyn, seemed equally excited. Long days of discussion were had, going over and over the plans, until, one evening, Loki noticed something.

Raising a hand to ask for his fellow scholars’ silence, he considered for a moment, then threw a binding spell right at the space between Berach and Byleist. It collided with someone and knocked them to the ground. Several curses escaped the man as he struggled against the bonds, but he quickly froze as they all gathered around him.

“Well, it appears Midgard does indeed have magic users,” drawled Aetril, her eyes raking over the man’s face. He was a tall, thin man, with a neat beard and hair.

“We prefer the term sorcerers,” he grunted.

“And we prefer not to be spied on,” said Sigyn curtly.

“You people are about to perform god knows what kind of magic on our planet, did you not think we would be concerned?” demanded the man impatiently.

“Why not simply come to us openly?” asked Berach.

The man scoffed,

“I’m not sure the revelation of magic would go down well on this planet.”

“Really? We seem to be doing alright,” said Byleist just before Loki said the same thing. Irked, he snapped,

“What’s your name sorcerer? And consider how much of a waste of time it would be to be silent.”

The man looked Loki up and down, and Loki had the odd sense that he had been assessed as the most important of the group. The only reason he could guess for that was that Loki looked the most like the man stuck on his back. Didn’t that say everything needed about the man’s ego?

“I’m Doctor Steven Strange and-”

“You’re not actually called Strange, are you?” asked Byleist with a snigger. Strange stiffened and seemed to be trying to find some dignity in the situation.

“It’s been my name since before I became Sorcerer Supreme.”

“Oh now he’s the Supreme Sorcerer,” Sigyn crowed. They all made noises of amusement, then Aetril pressed her foot to Strange’s chest, looming over him with her most intimidating smile.

“Now, little one, why don’t you start again?”

“I’m Dr Steven Strange, and I wanted to know what exactly you were going to do.”

“We have had dozens of meetings already about the process, and yet you show up now?”

“I was trying to gather more information.”

“You were waiting to see if we would turn on you,” said Loki, “You hoped by keeping silent, if we suddenly turned into an invading hoard you would have the element of surprise.”

“That’s a very rare and fragile element,” said Byleist.

“Ha. Ha,” drawled Strange, trying to sit up, but Aetril kept him down. “Look, I want to help! You said that this spell would counteract man made climate change, and I want to make sure we get all the time we can to fix our mess.”

Aetril looked around at the others and by silent agreement, she lifted her foot. Strange gasped and rubbed at his chest,

“You’re heavier than you look,” he grumbled, then froze as he realised what he had just said. Lucky for him that just made Aetril laugh.

“Come,” she beckoned, “Let us see what you can comprehend.”

Looking rather affronted, Strange joined them at the table.

**~*~**

There was a strange sense of nostalgia stirring in Loki’s chest as he led Jörmungandr down the steps of the Vault. Long ago memories of being brought here by Odin and being told of how they had acquired the Casket of Ancient Winters. Now Loki knew it was also the story of how he had ended up as Prince of Asgard.

The Casket was gone. Odin slept on, and Loki led his small son towards his own creation. The Casket of Primal Fire. It spun slowly on its point without help, the colours of red, yellow, white swirling within, with the occasional blue flare.

Jörmungandr stared up at the Casket, face clear of any scowl, he looked fascinated and tempted to touch. Loki held his hand to be safe.

“What is it Papa?”

“It’s a knot in subspace, a physical manifestation of an elemental construct,” said Loki. He looked down and saw the unimpressed look on his son’s face. “… it’s pure fire. Very hot.”

“And you made it?”

“I did. I had a bit of an… accident and in order to get myself out of it, I had to make this.” Loki had debated whether to mention Fenrir had bitten his arm off, but decided that was a story he could leave out forever.

“And it’s super powerful?” asked Jörmungandr.

“Incredibly. If I unleashed it, I could probably burn all of Asgard to ash in moments.”

“Wow…” Jörmungandr stepped closer, greedy eyes wide. Loki arched an eyebrow at the look. It was a little too familiar for his own comfort, so he tugged Jörmungandr back. His son looked up at him curiously, “Can’t I touch it?”

Loki was going to say no, but those big grey eyes were staring up at him hopefully, so he said,

“Stay there, I’ll bring it to you.”

Jörmungandr beamed at him. Loki let go of his hand and walked to the pedestal it rested on. He called his seiðr to his hands, coating them in a layer to protect them. He had never really been able to study or toy with his creation, and he mourned the fact that now he never would.

He picked up the Casket, the heat coming off it making him feel like he’d stepped into a warm bath. He carried it to Jörmungandr, kneeling in front of him and holding the Casket between them. Jörmungandr’s face was illuminated by the lights coming from the Casket, and he looked enraptured. His hands came up and hovered close to the glass,

“It’s warm…” he sighed, and Loki realised that as a person who favoured being a reptile, of course his son would be drawn to heat. “It’s very pretty.”

“Yes, it is,” Loki agreed softly. “But I’m afraid that this will be the last time you see it.”

Jörmungandr looked, a pout immediately forming.

“Why?”

“Because this is a thing that should not exist. It is an example of playing with seiðr in a way that is dangerous. I created this by accident, because I was foolish, and careless. So now I must destroy it, to ensure that nothing interferes with the Reset.”

“Why?”

“Because we have a duty as seiðr users to ensure that what we do does not harm the natural order. We can explore it, and we can work with it, harness it to our benefit but we must not abuse it. I made this in a moment of panic, but I should never have kept it. It might take centuries, but like the Casket of Ancient Winter that stole the seiðr of the Jotnar, altered their planet and condemned them to addiction, this beautiful thing would eventually have terrible repercussions, the like of which I cannot imagine.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t. How do you know?”

“Because the Casket of Ancient Winters was a twin of this, and it did terrible things. We must learn by example.”

Jörmungandr looked down at it, remorse clear on his face.  

“I wish you didn’t have to destroy it. I’d keep it.”

“Even if it meant a lot of people would be hurt or even killed?”

Jörmungandr frowned, and Loki watched as he moved his hands up and down, revelling in the heat of the Casket. Finally, his son gave a heavy sigh and said in a sulky voice,

“No, I guess not.”

Loki smiled at his son, proud of his choice, even if it had taken him a while.

“So, do you want to come with me now to see it destroyed?”

Jörmungandr nodded, some of the excitement coming back into his face.

“Yeah!”

Loki grinned and straightened up.

“Come on, we’re off to the Bifröst. There’s a massive star whose heart is waiting for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we bid farewell to the Casket of Primal Fire, an item I thought was an awesome idea at the time, but honestly couldn’t find space to work with as the story went one. I had a whole plan for it that it would start to turn Sutur’s people into the same addicted people that the Casket of Ancient Winters did to the Frost Giants, but there was already so much going on I could never fit it in. It’s a shame, I liked the concept of the thing, and wanted it to be more significant than it ended up being, but ultimately it still would have been destroyed for the sake of the Reset, because it is a thing that should not be. 
> 
> Speaking of things I couldn’t fit in: Hi Strange! Dear God I completely forgot about this guy, and realised that it was honestly very weird that no magic users had come forward to help, so this is me trying to fix that very poorly. Strange might pop up again in the future, but it’ll probably only be a cameo, because this cast is big enough! Disney might be able to manage those numbers but this series is already half the length of all the Harry Potter books combined and I’d like to finish it sometime this decade! Seriously I just realised it’s been nearly 6 years since this story was first started –there was only 1 Thor movie back then! It’s half a million words long! *has existential crisis* 
> 
> If you want me to keep writing, please consider buying me a cup of coffee, see below, to keep my strength up as I try to keep this series under a million words.


	38. The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this chapter contains some sexual content.

There was one final party before the Convergence, and as much as they were all rather sick of them, the monarchs knew that it was probably best just to go along with it. This one was being hosted by Tony Stark, and it was a surprisingly elegant affair given the impression he had given them all on their initial meeting.

Although he wished he did not have to, Loki had spoken privately with Helblindi and Byleist, asking for their acceptance that Thor would be at the party. The two had given Loki a long piercing stare that reminded Loki of whenever Jörmungandr was suspicious of someone, before agreeing, with the provision that Thor not come near them. The politics of Thor’s actions may have calmed down, but neither of them had forgotten or forgiven it.

So warned, Thor made a point of staying as far away as he could, looking nervous whenever he caught sight of them. Loki stayed with his brother, watching as Stark and his partner Pepper glided through the crowds, chatting each guest up.

“So, tomorrow evening,” said Thor softly. “Nervous brother?”

Loki side-eyed Thor for a moment, wondering if the phrasing had been deliberate, before saying,

“We’re about to do a highly experimental working that will affect every planet in the Nine. Why would I be nervous?”

Thor grinned and shrugged,

“Seiðr is your dominion, I’d expect you to be in your element.”

“That doesn’t mean I know what’s going to happen. You’d know that if you’d ever paid attention in lessons.”

Thor huffed, shaking his head,

“Maybe.”

Loki groaned,

“Oh stop being so humble, it’s getting annoying now!”

They caught each other’s eye and then looked away chuckling. Loki finished his glass of champagne, and set it on a passing tray. They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, then Thor said,

“You should dance with her.”

Loki did not need to ask who he meant. Sigyn was dancing with Steve, mostly swaying and talking animatedly about something.

“She’s enjoying herself, I don’t want to disturb that,” he said with a soft sigh.

“But maybe if you wooed her a little…” wheedled Thor.

“It’s not about wooing,” said Loki, “If it were it would be easier. Sigyn doesn’t want to be wooed, she wants to do what’s best for Vanaheim. As I want to do what’s best for Asgard, only I am privileged enough that Asgard is still strong and golden, so my choice of wife will not affect the next ten generations. No, we have talked as much as we can for now. She knows where I stand… or at least where I am trying to stand for our mutual benefit. I know where she stands. There’s nothing more to be done about things for now.”

Loki noticed Thor’s glum expression and gave him a light pat on the back,

“Ah brother, we’re all still young. There is time to find our way.” If he kept saying it, maybe he would start believing it.

**~*~**

Being held in strong, gentle arms was a dangerous thing for Sigyn right now. The urge to press closer and burrow into Steve’s hold was almost overwhelming. It was not even a sexual desire, but a pure instinct of wanting closeness. Sigyn stamped on it and tried to focus on Steve’s story, about some incident on a recent mission, when another figure drew up next to them.

“May I cut in?” asked Byleist, his dark red eyes fixed on Sigyn, who felt a stab of annoyance at being interrupted, but also relief at being saved from herself. Steve gallantly let her go and stepped back,

“Sure, of course,” he caught Sigyn’s eye, and she knew he was checking that she was fine with this. Sigyn nodded, reminding herself that she liked Byleist and she did not want to complicate her friendship with Steve considering how humans viewed sex.

Byleist stepped closer and rested one hand just under her shoulder blade, the other taking hers. Sigyn rested her hand on his shoulder, smiling up at him.

“You make me feel short, you know,” she teased him, “I’m not used to looking up at people.”

“Maybe you’ve some Jötnar ancestry, you are tall even for a Vanir,” said Byleist as they started to sway.

“Maybe,” agreed Sigyn. She was half expecting a joke about whether she wanted some Jotun in her now, but it didn’t come. Instead, Byleist narrowed his eyes and bent his neck to speak more quietly.

“That would not bother you? To know you have blood of Jötunheim in you?”

“Why would it? I am not Asgardian, my people were busy trying to kill each other when your father and Odin battled for power. The hatred of Jötunheim never reached my realm from Asgard.”

“And yet your people never seemed inclined to break Asgard’s decrees about my world.”

Sigyn shrugged, idly brushing her thumb over his shoulder, feeling the slightly rough, almost reptilian, skin. She wondered what it would be like to explore that skin –then immediately killed the thought.

“My parents had to deal with the fallout of our civil war, and then were too busy arguing over how to rule to be concerned with other realms. It is regrettable that your world has suffered, but we were not the cause.”

“Actually…” started Byleist and Sigyn remembered too late that Laufey’s first queen had been of Vanaheim. But to her surprise, Byleist shook his head and continued, “It’s pointless to argue now. The future is the only thing we can have any say in.”

“And what future do you envision?” asked Sigyn, smiling more easily again. Byleist slowed their movements to barely a sway, his red eyes fixed on hers. Sigyn felt her smile slip as she realised what his scrutiny meant. “…Oh.”

“I swore to my brother that I would never consider a union with anyone other than one of my own kind. It has only led to misery for my people. Yet…”

Sigyn’s mouth was so dry her tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, her gaze fixed on his lips as he sighed,

“Yet I think I could… make a good union with you.”

Sigyn tried to swallow so she could speak, but it was impossible. She did not want to have this discussion.

“Our worlds could help one another rebuild. We need seiðr users skilled in natural motions, you need hardy workers. I’m sure there are hundreds of other ways we could support each other.” Byleist gave her an expectant look, obviously waiting for her to say something. Sigyn forced her mouth open,

“That’s a very logical argument.”

Byleist seemed to sag a little and he pulled their joined hands closer, resting them against his collarbone.

“We’re rulers, and our power is based in dynastic continuity and strength. But… if I may say, I think we could fit well together.”

“Why do you think that?” asked Sigyn, hating that she was allowing this topic to continue.

“Because you have shown me nothing but kindness since we met and as you said, your world had no interest in mine. That suggests to me that your treatment was purely genuine, and if that is the case, well, if I must marry for the benefit of my realm, I would like to marry someone who I can have some emotional connection with.”

First Loki, now Byleist. Sigyn did not know what to do, she barely understood why she felt so shaken. She stilled their movements and said,

“I will consider it.” She started to pull away, then felt compelled to linger just long enough to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. She didn’t want him to think she was repulsed by him. He was probably getting sick of that reaction from others. “I’d like to get some air, if you’ll excuse me Byleist.”

Byleist let her go, not giving much away in his expression. How very Loki-esque.

Sigyn cross the room as fast as she could without looking distressed, hurrying out onto the balcony. She gripped the railing and inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down.

“It really stinks here, doesn’t it?”

Sigyn jumped and looked around. Berach was sitting above her, perched on a ledge and glaring out at the city. Sigyn leaned back against the railing, folding her arms across her chest.

“Doesn’t smell that differently to home as it is now,” she said coolly. Berach snorted, his wings wafting in the breeze.

“Has Byleist proposed yet?” he asked. Sigyn felt a stab of anger,

“Why? Worried he might beat you to the task?” She regretted it as soon as it left her mouth, but she was fed up with all of them. Always watching her, scheming about her, trying to tell her what to do like she was a child.

Berach regarded her with that blank expression he always used when she had disappointed him. Sigyn crushed the impulse to apologise. He was not her mentor anymore, he was a prince and she was a queen. It would be weak to let their previous relationships affect their interactions. Finally Berach looked away, frowning slightly. Sigyn turned away and looked out over the city. It was so bright, even now, with the sun long gone. She heard Berach move then felt him land beside her. She didn’t look at him, instead fixing her eyes on the large statue in the distance.

“You seem happier since your form was restored,” said Berach softly. “I am glad to see it.”

Sigyn snorted,

“You can thank Loki’s magical baby for that. He’s going to be one to keep an eye on.”

“Indeed. His boys are certainly unique. Máthair thinks they could bring a new age of seiðr when they are older, if Loki can curb Jörmungandr’s more violent tendencies.”

Sigyn could not stop herself from reacting to that,

“Violent tendencies?”

“He’s young, but he’s also powerful, and Loki spoils him. Máthair has said that his tantrums can be quite impressive. Almost like his uncle.”

“You think Jörmungandr could be like Thor was when he attacked Jötunheim?”

“I think it’s very likely. They are of a blood, and certainly Loki’s got his own temper even if he expresses it differently.”

Sigyn looked away,

“Well, that is Loki’s problem, not mine,” she said, sliding her fingers against each other.

“True. Unless you end up marrying him,” said Berach. Sigyn closed her eyes,

“Can we just stop talking about my marriage? I’m sick of hearing about it –it’s not even going to happen for a long time.”

“Not even if it would benefit your realm? You should always consider what is beneficial in the long run for your realm too.”

A wave of hot rage crashed through Sigyn and she whirled around to face Berach,

“I am not your student anymore Berach! I don’t need you to be constantly telling me what to do. I am not a child, nor am I an empty headed fool who just ascended to the throne with no experience. I was queen the moment Malekith killed my parents, and I did whatever I had to to lead my people. I know what it means to sacrifice myself to protect my people, so stop talking to me as if we are back in your classroom. Those days are gone, they are dead! No amount of you trying to force me back into that position will make it happen. So stop it. If you want to marry me, fuck me, get children on me, at least admit to it! Don’t try to act as if you just want to be the teacher again, because I am not your student anymore. Have enough respect for me to do me that courtesy.”

Berach looked taken aback by her fury, his wings beating behind him. Sigyn gripped the railing tight in one hand, trying to conceal her trembling. Then Berach drew himself up,

“I am not looking to be a suitor to you. Máthair has been considering offering herself, since she respects that our relationship is not compatible with the trappings of marriage. So no Sigyn, I do not wish to fuck you. I only wish to offer my guidance, since I do have more experience with ruling in times of peace than you.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped, “Vanaheim is not Alfheim, and you have no experience in ruling a realm recovering from invasion and battle. The only person who does is your mother, and her methods are not Vanaheim’s methods. So enough! Vanaheim does not need saving, I don’t need saving. I saved myself, it was Vanir knowledge, strength and determination that saved us.”

“I know,” said Berach, “I know you did, and I am proud of you Sigyn.”

Sigyn’s throat closed and she flinched at the words. The emotion they caused was humiliating.

“I don’t need your approval Berach,” she spat. Berach’s expression twisted and Sigyn braced for the lecture he was clearly dying to launch, when a third voice interrupted them,

“Sorry Sigyn, I just thought you might like a drink.”

It was Steve, and Sigyn felt a great sense of relief at the sight of him. She walked to him and accepted the sweet drink he had in his hand. Steve was looking at Berach warily, clearly wondering what was going on. She glanced back at Berach, then hooked her hand into Steve’s elbow, steering him away. They made their way up to a walkway that lacked any sort of railing.

“This looks like a landing pad,” said Sigyn to ensure Steve did not ask her about what he had interrupted.

“It’s where Tony lands in his Iron Man suit,” said Steve. Sigyn nodded, she had heard about the Iron Man suit. A part of her was dying to see it, it sounded fascinating, but she could not spare the time. She already hated that so much of her time was being given over to these parties. 

“Is everything ok?” asked Steve, and she realised she had been quiet for several minutes.

“I’m fine, it’s just… never mind.” Sigyn turned Steve to face her, “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me. About how difficult it is for you to go near the ocean.”

Steve’s expression tightened, she could practically see his walls rising.

“Oh yeah?”

Sigyn nodded, reaching up and curling her hands around his upper arms,

“I think I can help you get past it.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, clearly dubious, but Sigyn smiled at him.

“Are you thinking of using magic on my mind? I mean, I was ok with the dancing thing, but-”

“No, nothing like that. There will be magic involved, but nothing I do will affect your mind. I simply want to give you a new perspective of the sea.”

Steve didn’t look sure, so Sigyn let him go, giving him some space,

“Think about it, I can’t do it until after the Reset. If you say no, I won’t be offended.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” said Steve, still frowning slightly. Sigyn could not stop herself from reaching up and smoothing her thumb over the crease between his eyebrows. It disappeared as he started in surprise. Sigyn snatched her hand back, her heart beating against her ribs once more.

“I should get back, I’m sure someone wants to try and charm me for one reason or another,” she said quickly. Steve nodded, looking as confused as she felt.

“Yeah.”

Sigyn gave him a weak smile, then turned around and hurried back into the party where she pretended to listen to whoever spoke to her.

That night she dreamed…

_Sigyn stood in the centre of her old bedroom, the moonlight streaming in through the open window. Snowflakes fluttered in and she watched them, hands pulling on her neck to ease the tension within._

_A hand turned her around and Byleist pulled her against him. He was in a simple loincloth, and her hands rubbed against his chest, feeling that rough skin again. Byleist grinned at her, then bent his head and sucked on her pulse point. Sigyn whimpered, her head falling back as her skin came alive._

_“No…” she tried to say, but instead she pressed closer. Her hands slid down his back and slipped into his loincloth, which faded away. He had a pert, strong backside and she gripped it as hard as she could, wanting to see how he would react. Byleist bucked his hips and growled against her skin, yanking at her clothes, ripping her top off. Heat coursed through her and she decided to throw caution to the wind._

_“Fuck me!”_

_Byleist swept her up and dropped her onto the bed, crawling on top of her, biting and kissing her face and neck. Sigyn grunted, pressing up again him, their fingers linking against the mattress. She opened her eyes as Byleist moved down to kiss her breasts and her mouth fell open in shock._

_Loki stood over them, his eyes blazing. Sigyn drew in a sharp breath, but Loki tapped Byleist’s shoulder,_

_“Roll over brother.”_

_Byleist grabbed Sigyn’s thighs and flipped them over. Sigyn almost over balanced, but Loki’s hand curled around her throat and pulled her back against his chest. His mouth was hot on her neck, other hand cupping and fondling her breasts. Beneath her, Byleist was undulating, his dark hands shredding her trousers and underwear, his red eyes fixed on her face._

_Loki pulled her further back and kissed her, delving into her mouth. Sigyn rolled her hips, feeling both men and she cried out when Byleist filled her. The burn was delicious and she raked her nails down his chest, scratching at the tribal markings. Loki broke the kiss and shoved her face down into Byleist’s chest, pinning her there._

‘Finally!’ _she thought with glee. How often had she tried to get Loki to be rough with her? She laughed and dragged her teeth over Byleist’s chest, making him buck up into her again. Loki was stretching her other opening, first with his fingers, but very quickly it was replaced with what she really wanted._

_“Oh! Yes!”_

_The two men dragged her between them, they wanted her, they were sharing her and she laughed again, the heat pooling deep inside her. So close… so close…_

_Fingers buried into her hair and dragged her head, making her look up. Steve’s chest was already heaving as he watched her being filled by the other two, his other hand touching himself. Sigyn reached for him, and he walked on his knees so he was at Byleist’s side. Sigyn lowered her head, sucking hard on him, holding onto his backside as she was pulled and pushed between them all._

_So close…_

_Loki and Byleist were crushing her between them, Steve was clinging to her hair and she wanted more. She wanted to devour these men, she wanted them to beg her for release. They filled her and chased away the hole in her chest._

_A hand was rubbing between her legs, she was so close now –now –now_

Sigyn woke so violently she sat up, her own hand still between her legs, but her orgasm long dead without arriving, leaving her relieved and dissatisfied in the same heartbeat. The only sound in the room was her own frantic breathing, which picked up even more when she remembered what her dream had been.

Shaking, she drew her legs to her chest and buried her face in her knees, hating her own weakness. She tugged on her hair, trying to pull herself together. She needed to be ready for the Reset, she needed to be centred or it would be her fault if it all went wrong. And if this didn’t go well, her plans for afterward would be impossible. 

Besides, she needed to face the fact that sex was going to be in her future. The only question was whether she would control it, or someone else would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Reset is happening next chapter. I cannot wait! The most difficult thing will be how I describe something like this, so I’m polishing it up as much as I can. Plus the chapter after it will… be significant. 
> 
> I don’t know if people are at all interested in my rambles about writing this fic, but if you’re curious about anything, plot, headcanons, characters etc, please come and chat with me on my new tumblr


	39. The Reset of the Nine Realms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reset finally takes place.

The prime location for the ritual was the Temple Mayor in the ruins of Tenochtitlan, a city that had now been surrounded and mostly consumed by Mexico City. Temple Mayor had been one of the central hubs for a culture that Loki and Sigyn had known as Tenochca, but were better known to humans now as Aztecs. Loki remembered the stunning city built in the heart of a lake and had been saddened when they had returned and found it eradicated. He had not much liked the practise of human sacrifice, but they had seen so much of that across Earth, whether it be stoning for sexual sins, burning for witchcraft, or just mob rule. Humans were very good at killing each other.

It had taken some negotiations with Mexico because of the historical importance of the site, they were worried it would be damaged. Now, after being reassured that nothing would be permanent, several of the people in charge of the temple’s care watched anxiously as seiðr wielders drew runes and other magical symbols in special powders to form a circle. Matching circles were being drawn on the other realms, connecting the planets together.

Meanwhile the various seiðr wielders were meditating and purifying themselves as needed. Loki was pooling his seiðr deep inside him, Sigyn was performing stretches that helped centre her mind. Aetril was on her own world, drawing it into herself to bring to Earth.

They had managed to keep the location a secret until this morning, which meant only locals could flood the area. There were many different opinions on the ritual, from good to bad. Loki had to admit some of the picket slogans were quite inventive. Sverrir was playing with the various social media platforms, apparently enjoying his verbal duels. Loki could only hope it would not come back to bite him.

“We’re getting reports from other realms, and from around this planet, things are starting to happen. The Convergence has begun,” said Byleist, walking over to them and trying not to stare at Sigyn who was doing a handstand split.

“The circle is nearly ready,” said Loki, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. “We should be able to start soon.”

“I hope we all come through this,” said Byleist quietly. Loki looked at him curiously, “Are we sure this ritual won’t kill us? It is a lot of power we will be channelling.”

“That is why we’ve planned so much, to be sure this is nothing but a complete success,” said Loki. Byleist nodded, but he still looked anxious. Loki supposed that he had never really done many rituals since the seiðr of Jötunheim had been locked in the Casket. At the thought he turned to Sigyn and said, “The Casket of Primal Fire is gone, I cast it into the centre of the hottest star I could reach with the Bifröst.”

“Good,” said Sigyn, bringing her legs back together, then stretching them apart again. Loki had no idea how that helped her focused, but he enjoyed the sight.

“How are you doing that?” asked Byleist. Sigyn grinned upside down at him,

“Strong core.”

“If you say so,” said Byleist dubiously. Loki hid a grin behind his hand. He had a mischievous urge to poke her in the belly and make her fall. As if she sensed this Sigyn brought her feet together then tilted her pelvis so her back arched and bowed until her feet landed on the floor and she pushed away with her hands, standing up and turning to face them. Her markings covered her skin, once more the priestess of her people, and she had a determination in her gaze that sent a delicious chill down Loki’s spine. She turned her gaze to the cluster of dökkálfar nearby,

“Do they look ready to you?”

Loki and Byleist considered them. The five dökkálfar were whispering together, looking shifty as they kept glancing around.

“If they try something during the Convergence…” Byleist muttered.

“They won’t,” said Sigyn with surprising confidence. Loki and Byleist looked at her, mirror images of surprise. Sigyn gave them a little smile that made Loki’s stomach flip and walked away towards the circles. Loki watched her go like a love-struck boy.

“Should we be worried?” asked Byleist, cutting through Loki’s distraction.

“Hm? Oh, we’ll keep an eye on them, I doubt they’d be stupid enough to try something today. It could end all life as we know it, that wouldn’t exactly be in their best interests, would it?” Loki threw Byleist a smirk and decided to go and inspect the circles.

**~*~**

The sun was just about to set when they all gathered in the circles and wooden structure that would help them channel their seiðr. Reports of portals opening between the worlds were springing up all over, and people were getting nervous. Loki took his place between Sigyn and Aetril, and lay down on his back, staring up through the clear fabric at the sky above. The faintest stars were starting to appear.

Sigyn’s hair brushed his as she lay next to him, she was so close he could hear her nervous breathing. It reinforced just how nervous he himself was. Byleist wasn’t wrong that this could kill them if it went wrong, but it needed to be done.

Quiet fell over the space as everyone got comfortable. Then Aetril pressed a tiny music box, which began to play a light tune. Loki inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, listening to the tune. It filled the structure, bringing them all to breathe as one. Slowly they inhaled and exhaled together, feeling the seiðr pulsing around them, flowing through them.

Then the music swelled and Sigyn started to sing. It was like a lullaby, drawing them in, and one by one, they added to the tune, taking it in turns to say the words of power to begin the ritual.

It had been agreed very early on that the ritual would be conducted in song, because music was a commonality among them all. Music inspired, it embraced, it could bind people together even if they did not share a language. It also gave them a focus to help them harmonize.

Loki turned his hands so the palms faced the sky by his sides, and he brushed Sigyn’s next to him. He could feel her seiðr stirring and as they sang, the seiðr began to gather together. Loki could see his own seiðr, green and gold, rising from his form and spreading out, bumping into the others’, then touching the symbols of the circles. Like blotting paper the symbols drew the seiðr in, passing through space and time to connect to the other circles dotted about the Nine Realms.

Loki felt the moment his seiðr wove together with Sigyn’s, then Aetril’s, then Byleist’s. Soon the occupants of the circle were joined as one in seiðr. It was an intensely intimate connection, and if they weren’t careful, more than just their magic might mix. Focusing on the song they had composed kept their minds from wandering. With each recitation of the song, the seiðr built up, linking over and over again to itself, binding them all tighter together and to the magic users stationed in the Nine.

Loki found he could recognise some people’s seiðr as they all wove together. His mother’s, Sverrir’s, Thor’s, Hela’s … and one he would know anywhere, but had not felt for so long.

_Father…_

Loki gasped and opened his eyes as seiðr burst from his body, illuminating him from the inside. He rose up from the ground as if gravity had simply stopped, floating in the air as he rode the waves of magic that were pulsing and moving through the channels and pathways that interconnected the whole of the Nine. Where they found damage, they soothed the wounds and slotted things back into place. There was the gaping hole left by the Bifröst’s destruction. Together they sewed the frayed ends back together and massaged it in to place.

There was the passage between Asgard and Vanaheim, still fresh from its creation before Odin was born, raw at the edges. They rubbed at it until the rawness faded.  

Now Alfheim and its pathways, now Jötunheim and its broken ecosystem. Then Vanaheim, its very soul crying out for relief. One by one they eased the way, reconnecting the broken paths, encouraging the flow of new ones.

All the seiðr energy flowing through him was the most exquisite ecstasy, he felt fuller and more alive than he ever remembered feeling before. His hand brushed Sigyn’s again and he was filled with such overwhelming love for her that he linked his fingers with hers, and she, without hesitation, squeezed back.

The song grew louder, but remained gentle and soothing. It reached a crescendo and before the astonished eyes of the Nine Realms, the skies burst with colour. Aurora burst and flickered above their heads, night or day, clear or cloudy, they could all see the threads and weft of the hidden universe they were all a part of. The rainbows of colours, known and imagined, danced before their eyes and all across the Nine a sense of their own insignificance and yet complete belonging washed over many of them.

People lowered their picket signs and raised their hands to the sky, worshipping the divine in a way that had not been known in millennia.

Near the structure, Steve Rogers found himself kneeling, his hands clasped before him and he prayed as he had not done in an age.

In New York Tony, with Pepper in his arms, and Bruce at his side, stared up in childlike wonder and remembered how it was to be awed by the unknown. Nearby, Thor felt a deep ache in his stomach, a kind of pain that was sweet as it was bitter, and as he felt Jane clutch his arm and saw her beam at the stars, he felt tears roll down his cheeks. Grief or joy, he did not know.

On Asgard, Hlin ached with pride for her king, and her own bruised heart as she watched Fenrir coo and reach for the light, held up by his proud older brother. Heimdall set down his sword, took a knee and opened his gaze as wide as he could, so he could imprint in his memory forever, the sight of the Nine Realms being healed.

And on Asgard too, Frigga soared to the heavens, arms held aloft, as pleasure she had missed for so long came flooding back, and her seiðr sought and found her husbands, and entwined them together, for Odin was not yet so lost that he could not find her.

In Vanaheim the weary, broken people looked to the sky with desperate hope, and felt the power seeping into their land, their water, their plants, filling it with strength. A young girl looked away from the sky, to a patch of burnt ground. Inspired, she stretched out her hand and beamed as greenery began to sprout.

In Vanaheim too, people who were on the cusp of their most important mission, who had been honing weapons and gathering secrets, paused a moment to bow their heads and pay homage to their queen.

In Jötunheim the wild weather eased, and Frost Giants felt a new sensation. Only the oldest of them recognised it, as none of those born after the war had known lives absent the gnawing addiction. As the natural seiðr was coaxed back into its channels, each Jötunn took a deep breath and it was as if an iron band that had been clamped around their ribs had fallen away.

And in Jötunheim, deep in the mountains and along fragile coastlines, groups of near extinct peoples raised their heads and sensed that their time was nigh.   

In Alfheim, the ljósálfar danced beneath the rainbows, joyous laughter ringing out across the land. Lovers tumbled together and children were made, and Alfheim knew a renewal that it had long been denied. They would no more stand back and watch the universe flow by. They felt the call of the universe, ‘Come and See!’, and they would follow it.

On Earth, the fighting stopped. The bombs were quiet, and those who did harm were given pause, their frightened faces upturned. They felt the same fear and awe that their ancestors had when spying a comet streaking across the sky. The fear of doom and the awe of hope. For a moment, they laid down their arms, they loosened their grip on their slaves who fled at once and felt they might get away free. The internet was silent, and phones that had been raised to capture the moment, were set down to see with the naked eye.

Seiðr wrapped itself around each realm, seeking to restore what had been ruined. In the North and the South of Earth, the ice reformed, stretching out into the land and sea, confusing many polar bears, seals and penguins. The atmosphere seemed to inhale and then exhale, and scientists stared in disbelief as numbers that had risen over decades, began to drop over minutes.

Loki opened his eyes, blinded by the light of his own seiðr, and smiled. The music began to slow, and, gently, they began to bring the ritual to an end. They drifted back down to the ground, released their hold on each other’s magic and drew back into themselves, until the lights faded and the ritual ended.

Another collective sigh, as the light across the Nine faded away, but everyone felt like they had been expunged, as if an unspoken emotion, tight and knotted in their chest had been released and was gone.

The Nine could breathe easy once more.

**~*~**

It took Loki several minutes to find the will to move. Power was pulsing through his body, and he both wanted to bask in it and get up and play with it. He stirred and realised he was still holding Sigyn’s hand. He turned his head to look at her and saw she was crying. He rolled onto his elbow and reached out with his free hand, thumbing away the tears. Sigyn blinked and looked up at him, and he was startled by the look on her face. His thumb brushed her lips and they parted, licking away the tears.

Heat rolled through Loki’s whole body and his mouth fell open. Sigyn sat up and looked at the others, who were all picking themselves up. Aetril looked flushed, and her eyes landed on Loki and Sigyn, gazing at them like she wanted to devour them both.

“Did it work?” asked Byleist, visibly shaking as he got to his feet.

“It worked,” said Aetril, reaching up and running her hand down his arm. “I can already feel this place starting to heal.” Loki climbed to his feet, standing so close to Sigyn he could smell her hair and feel the heat coming off her. Everything was thrumming through him and he was sure she was leaning towards him, the same energy pulsing through her. That little tongue swipe had been no accident.

“Congratulations,” Sigyn said to the group, “I know that this was so complicated and difficult for everyone, but I’d like to thank you for not only agreeing to my plan, but participating in it.”

“We’re glad you thought of it,” said Byleist. “This is going to benefit all our realms, and will bring a new age of the Nine Realms. So thank you Queen Sigyn.” He dipped his horns to her and Aetril crossed the circle to kiss her cheeks. Sigyn leaned into her, and Loki thought the two women were inhaling each other’s scent. Aetril’s wings fluttered and Sigyn squeezed her shoulders, looking straight at her. Desire was palpable between them and Loki swallowed, feeling bereft. Then Sigyn pulled away, bowed at the waist to everyone and opened the circle. Loki followed her out of the structure and saw her running across the square, leaping into Steve’s arms and hugging him.

Loki watched them, as Steve laughed, holding her tight, and his chest tightened. Sigyn kissed Steve’s cheek and pulled away, walking back to Loki. Her eyes were burning with power and intent, and before Loki could speak, she had taken his hand and pulled them both through a portal into her hotel room.

“What-?” Loki started, but Sigyn turned back to face him and said,

“Do not overthink this.”

Then she was kissing him like she wanted to steal the breath from his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally I can lay this plot thread to rest. Obviously there’s going to be some more stuff to deal with after the Reset, but I am so glad to finally post this. It was a long time coming, and I can finally name the song that inspired it, because I didn’t have this planned at all when I started No More, I actually had a totally different plan. If you’re at all curious, please click [here](https://not-rude-ginger.tumblr.com/post/171310918653/nmswp-rambling-the-reset), since I don’t want to write a massive A/N here. But if you just want to hear the song, go to YouTube and search “LOHTU - Live Aid Uusi Lastensairaala 2017”.


	40. Not to Plan but That’s Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Sigyn spend a night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Possible Trigger Warnings:** This chapter contains sexual content and some PTSD from sexual assault

Loki’s eyes widened in shock, then he threw his arms around her and kissed her back. Their bodies pressed together and it was as if they had never been apart. Sigyn’s fingers buried in Loki’s hair, pulling him closer and walking them both towards the bed.

A part of Loki wanted to object, wanted to ask if this was really a good idea, but he ignored it. Sigyn had told him not to overthink this.

Sigyn’s tongue pressed into his mouth, tasting of something sweet she must have drunk before the ritual. The magic inside them hummed, and Loki moaned quietly as he ran his hands over her back, feeling the heat of her body and the curve of her spine. He wanted to touch every inch of her, but he was afraid he would touch the wrong spot and this would all just stop.

Sigyn had no such concerns, she pushed his outer coat off, then pulled his shirt out of his trousers, running her fingers over his stomach. Loki felt her lips curve into a grin against his mouth and she hummed in amusement.

“What?” asked Loki against her lips, staying as close as he could while speaking.

“Someone’s been enjoying their sweets and not working on their training,” Sigyn giggled, prodding his stomach. Loki flushed,

“I’ve been busy!” he protested, sucking his stomach in a little. Sigyn simply laughed again and hooked her fingers into his trousers, pulling his hips back to hers. Loki reached down and picked her up, grunting with effort. She was a lot heavier than he remembered.

“How much muscle did you gain?” he demanded as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

“Enough,” said Sigyn simply, sucking on his neck. Loki’s legs nearly buckled as she found his favourite spot, just on his pulse point, and he stepped backwards towards the bed, sitting with a soft ‘oof!’. His hands free he slipped them under her top, shivering at the feeling of her skin against his. He could feel the scars on her back and it was hard to just pretend that was normal.

Sigyn took the matter away from him by pulling his shirt over his head, forcing him to take his hands away. Then she started unlacing her own shirt, and Loki moved to help her, kissing each bit of skin that was exposed. As her collarbone appeared, Loki sucked and licked at it, drawing sighs of pleasure from Sigyn. Finally he was pushing the shirt down her arms to land on the floor, and he was able to take off her chest wrap.

“This is new,” he said quietly, curious about the fashion choice.

“Simple and comfortable. We don’t have a lot of clothing choices at the moment,” said Sigyn curtly. She finished unwrapping the fabric from her breasts and tossed it aside, giving Loki a challenging look. Loki looked from her face to her chest and moaned hungrily, bowing his head and lavishing attention on her. Sigyn arched her back and sighed softly, toying with his hair, scratching her short nails over his scalp. Loki shivered, his whole body over sensitised by the seiðr and the long time without intimate contact.

Loki didn’t trust his ability to say the right thing to Sigyn, so he focused on touching her the way he had wanted to for so long. He kissed and sucked her nipples, his hands stroked her sides and caressed the underside of her breasts. Then he bit lightly and Sigyn inhaled sharply, going ridged under his hands. Loki let go and looked up, finding Sigyn’s face had lost its flush, and she was staring up at the ceiling fixedly.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Sigyn closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, then dropped her chin to look down at him.

“I’m fine. If I’m not, I’ll tell you, so keep going.”

Loki licked his lower lip, hesitant to just go on, knowing what had probably made her freeze, but Sigyn kissed him again. She pushed forward and Loki lay back, Sigyn spread atop him, their bare chests pressed together. Loki ran his fingers through her hair, slightly disconcerted by the shortness of it, but he was so wrapped up in her touch, her smell, that he could not bring himself to care.

Sigyn broke the kiss and started making her way down his chest, scratching her teeth over his pectorals. Loki rolled his hips beneath her, hard and aching in his tight trousers, but when Sigyn started to open them he said,

“No, wait.”

Sigyn looked up, clearly expecting him to say stop, but all he said was,

“I want to taste you.”

Sigyn’s eyebrow shot up, then she smirked a little.

“If you insist.”

She climbed off the bed and opened her trousers, pushing them down and stepping out of them. Loki actually gulped as he looked from her face and down over her naked form. A memory of the last time he had seen her naked rose up, but he pushed it down and got onto his knees. Sigyn crawled onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, biting her lip in a nervous gesture. Loki wondered if she was afraid that he would stir more bad memories, or if she was uneasy being naked when she bore so many scars now.

Walking on his knees to be level with her feet, Loki took hold of her left ankle and brought it to his lips, kissing his way up her calf before tickling the back of her knee with his tongue. Sigyn giggled and squirmed, her other foot kicking out. Loki caught it and did the same thing to the right, eliciting more giggles. Wanting more of those sounds, he slid his hands down to the backs of her thighs, right below the curve of her bum, where she was very ticklish. Sigyn squealed as his fingers set to work, laughing and kicking on either side of him, her hands clutching the headboard. Loki grinned at her, not holding her down but letting her move, bending over to nuzzle her navel.

“Stop it,” Sigyn gasped around her laughter, “I can’t breathe!”

Loki stopped at once, smoothing his hand over the area instead, his lips dropping kisses to her darker curls, before going lower. Sigyn’s residual giggles dissolved into soft gasps, one hand coming down and gripping his hair again. Loki did not protest the tugging, he was too busy enjoying putting his tongue to good use.

“Oh… oh, it’s too much,” Sigyn groaned quickly, and Loki eased off, toying with less sensitive areas. He would not force pleasure on her, he wanted to tease her, draw her out and let her take control. His own need was secondary in his mind right now, he wanted to remind Sigyn that sex and pleasure were positive things, that they were still able to connect and enjoy each other.

The trick would be proving to her that outside of the bedroom, Loki could be objective about their respective roles and respect her as a fellow monarch and fight her if he had to.

“F-fingers! Put them in –in me!” Sigyn ordered, her hips rising up to meet Loki’s mouth. Loki started with one, gently rubbing around her opening, which tensed and Sigyn’s breath stuttered in a bad way. He did not try to push in until she resumed a more regular breathing rhythm, and then he was very careful. Glancing up her body, Loki could see Sigyn’s eyes were closed, little twitches between her eyebrows that indicated some unease. Her lips, swollen from his kisses, were parted and she was clearly focused on her breathing.

Loki eased his hand away, resting it on her thigh and pressing his cheek to the spot where her leg and pelvis met. Sigyn opened her eyes and licked her lips before lifting her head.

“I won’t break,” she said, her voice ragged.

“I know,” said Loki, “But I don’t want to rush this, we’ve all night. It’s been a while for me, I’d rather not end it too soon.”

Sigyn stared down at him for a long moment, then nodded,

“All right.”

Loki smiled up at her, then lowered his mouth again. One hand rested on her belly feeling her muscles tense and relax, the other worked with his tongue and lips, gently working her up. He was sure Sigyn had been hoping to rush this, to get the first time over and done with. After all he had done the same, but Sigyn had slowed him down and it had been all the better for them. So he deliberately took his time, not playing with one spot too much, using his fingers to massage her open. He wanted her to relax, he wanted her to let him look after her.

“Hmmm…” Sigyn hummed, lifting her hips, her toes curing on either side of him. “Ah… L-Loki.”

Loki hummed against her, earning himself a sharp twitch of her hips.

“I’m –I’m… stop! Stop!”

Loki stopped at once, raising his head in concern. Sigyn had pressed her face against her arm, and she was shaking slightly. Loki stared at her, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Had he reminded her of Yggdrasil, or Malekith? He had no idea just how far they had both managed to get in their assaults, but he had hoped that they had not gotten that far.

“Sigyn?”

Sigyn drew in a shuddering breath and turned her head so her face was revealed.

“I’m fine,” she said and opened her arms, “Come here.”

Loki went, responding to her tilted chin by kissing her. This is home, he thought, wrapped in Sigyn’s arms, her thighs squeezing his hips, their mouths pressed together. He reached up and petted at her hair, breaking the kiss so he could look her in the eyes.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged. Sigyn visibly swallowed and licked her lips, but did not speak. Loki decided to give her options, “I can bring you to climax with my mouth, with my fingers, and that would be enough for me. We could join, and enjoy the slow, steady rhythm of our inclination, or if you want you can ride me as hard as you want.” He punctuated the words with kisses to her shoulder.

Sigyn closed her eyes, toying with Loki’s hair.

“I want… I want to… I want to stop being afraid,” she whispered, cheeks darkening. “I’m tired of fear being the dominant feeling in my life.”

Not quite what Loki had intended, but it was probably the most honest thing she had said to him in years.

“So how do you want to conquer that fear?” he asked, crossing his wrists under his chin on her chest. Sigyn looked at his face, and then away, her fingers burying in her own hair. Finally she looked back, and there was a guarded expression in her eyes.

“You won’t like it,” she said, “You won’t agree to it.”

Loki raised his eyebrows at her expectantly,

“Try me.”

Narrowing her eyes, Sigyn grabbed at his wrists and surged up, forcing him to roll onto his back, with her on top. Loki’s heart rate spiked as she pressed his wrists to the headboard, her meaning clear. He licked his lips, then nodded,

“Yes.”

Sigyn reared up in surprise, glaring down at him.

“Yes? You’re not serious!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you hate being bound! You would never agree to do this normally.”

“So?”

“So you’re just doing it to get on my good side! You don’t mean it.” Sigyn’s hand shot out and pressed on his throat. “I told you I’m not going to let you martyr yourself to the past!”

“That’s not what this is,” gasped Loki. “This is about giving you what you need. You did it for me, you waited and you cared, so why should I not do the same? I want to do it because it will help you. That’s not martyring myself to it. I don’t expect to win you over with this act. Like you said, ‘Don’t overthink this.’”

Sigyn’s scowl deepened with mistrust. Loki curled his fingers around the wrist pinning him, and pushed gently. Sigyn let go and Loki propped himself up on his elbows.

“Do it Sigyn, tie me up and use me, I want to be used. I want you to feel safe, and in control. You gave up so much of your control for me, I want to do the same. Not because I owe you, but because it’s what we both want.”

“And what exactly has prompted this new attitude in you?” demanded Sigyn. Loki sighed,

“You’re not the only one who has changed. I spend every day now making decisions for everyone around me. I don’t want to be in control. I want to feel, to just be here with you, and nothing else.”

Sigyn did not answer for a long time, clearly weighing up his words, her head tilting from one side to the other. Loki stared up at her, waiting. Finally, she gathered his wrists, pressed them back to the headboard and he felt soft silk wrap around them and his hands. Sigyn hovered above him, watching his face for any reaction. This made Loki smile up at her. Even after everything, even when he knew she thought she was calling his bluff and waiting for him to change his mind, she was still taking his trust seriously.

“I’ll tell you if I need them off,” Loki promised. Sigyn gave a jerky nod, then climbed off him. Loki lifted his hips when she opened his trousers and pulled them down, along with his underwear. Then silk, azure blue, wrapped around his ankles and pulled them apart, leaving him splayed open, with his half hard prick lolling to the left. Sigyn’s eyes travelled over his form, drinking him in. Loki did the same, taking in her dark skin, her full breasts and her scars. The longer he looked, the harder he grew, right before her eyes.

That seemed to encourage Sigyn, because she crawled back onto the bed, straddled his hips and kissed him again. Loki moaned softly, straining his body as he tried to feel more of her against him. Sigyn chuckled softly,

“Regretting your choice?” she purred.

“Only that I can’t touch you,” said Loki honestly.

“Hmm… but I can touch you,” Sigyn grinned, reaching down between her legs to grasp him, stroking three times, then stopping when Loki arched his back. Her grin became wicked and Loki knew she was going to take advantage of this opportunity. It was a bit daunting to consider, but if she kept touching him like that he was happy to accept it.

Sigyn ran her hands over his chest, playing with his nipples until they were aching and red, and Loki was gasping. She kissed him until his lips were swollen and she had stolen the taste of herself away from him. Then she sucked and bit at his neck until he was bruised and begging for more. He tried to rock his hips for friction, but didn’t get very far.

“Please Sigyn! I’m going mad,” he cried, pulling on the restraints.

“You’re impatient,” she smirked.

“You’re stalling,” Loki retorted before he could stop himself. Sigyn’s smirk slipped away and Loki grimaced, “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.”

Sigyn did not answer. Instead she drew herself up, grabbed his prick in one hand and guided it to her opening. Loki opened his mouth to object, she did not need to prove anything to him by rushing this, but she moved down and he lost the ability to speak. Sigyn did not break eye contact as she eased herself down, her nails digging into his chest. Finally she had completely engulfed him, and Loki strained against the bonds, desperate to move.

“How’s that for stalling?” Sigyn spat, her breathing slightly ragged, but mostly she sounded so bitterly angry that Loki recoiled.

“I didn’t mean it! Sigyn please, don’t be angry with me, don’t make this an angry experience.”

“Why? Would it be too emotional for you?” she demanded, giving her hips a roll that had Loki groaning desperately. “You haven’t changed, you’re still the selfish brat who has to have it his way!”

“No, no I’m not! I’m sorry, please Sigyn,” Loki begged, trying to hold still.

“Please what?” she snapped.

“Please don’t add me to the list of people who’ve hurt you this way!”

Sigyn froze, and her angry expression slipped into something more vulnerable, more shocked.

“You’ll never be like them,” she blurted. “You’d never be like them.” Her eyes welled up as she started to pant, her hands rubbing on her thighs anxiously. “You’ll never… you’ll never… you’ll never…”

Loki realised she was having a panic attack. 

“Sigyn. Sigyn, listen to me!” he ordered, “Sigyn untie me.”

Sigyn didn’t seem to hear him straight away, she was rocking back and forth and hyperventilating, which was not helping because despite his arousal being dead now, he was still partly inside her.

“Sigyn!” he barked. Sigyn looked at him, “Untie me.”

Sigyn reached out and fumbled the silk ropes loose, freeing Loki clumsily. Loki sat up, lifted her off his softened prick and then cupped her face.

“It’s all right, you’re all right, breathe. Listen to my breathing, in…. and out… in… and out…”

Their eyes locked and Sigyn started to follow his breathing, her hands gripping at his ears. Gradually her breathing slowed and he saw the moment the panic attack ended, but then she was sobbing. Loki gathered her into his arms and held her, petting her hair and letting her cry. He conjured up some tissues and handed them to her, then held her again until her breathing evened out completely. Then Loki banished the bindings on his ankles and carefully moved them both so they were on their sides, holding her close as he waited for her to pull herself back together.

Their eyes met and Sigyn sighed,

“I keep humiliating myself around you.”

“No,” said Loki, smoothing his hand up and down her shoulder. “I think you still trust me deep down, so you’re able to let some of your walls down. That makes the floodgates open.”

Sigyn hummed dolefully and rolled onto her back, wiping at her face. Loki tucked his hands under his head, watching her thoughtfully.

“This doesn’t have to be how this night ends,” he said. Sigyn looked at him, “We decide how it ends. If we end tonight like this, that’s fine. Or if we want to… we can try again.”

Sigyn sighed, playing with her hair, then nodded,

“I want to try again.”

Relief spread through Loki and he smiled, nodding and offering his hand. Sigyn swallowed hard and slowly moved her hand to rest on his, linking their fingers. Slowly she pulled him closer and they lay on their sides, kissing softly. Loki combed his fingers through her hair, scratching lightly across her scalp. Sigyn hummed quietly, pressing her hand to his back.

Building back up their arousal after such a terrible interruption was slow. Loki feared triggering another panic attack with a wrong touch, but slowly, quietly, their desire grew until they were ready. Sigyn lifted her leg over Loki’s hip, encouraging him to move closer and press in. The angle made it impossible for them to rush it, but that was all to the good.

“Loki…” Sigyn sighed.

 _I love you_ , Loki wanted to say, _I love you so much_. He kept his silence, because he knew that would be too much for her. Instead he focused on touching her where she liked, moving his hips slowly, kissing her as she would let him. Then she pushed on his shoulder and rolled them over so she was on top of him. She lay on his chest, fingers on his shoulders, rolling her hips faster. Loki pressed his hands to her ass, noticing that it was tighter and firmer than he remembered, thrusting up to meet her.

Sigyn cried out, digging her nails into his skin,

“There, right there –oh!”

It became more of a rut, both of them chasing their climax. Loki was trying to hold his own off until Sigyn had reached hers. He went looking for that little bundle of nerves that would help, and pressed up when he found it. Sigyn’s face screwed up, her mouth fell open and she bucked her hips.

“Yes! Just there –just –just-!” Her breath caught and Loki felt her climax before she gasped. It didn’t take long for him to follow her, holding her as close and as tight as he could as his mind went blank and sensation overcame him. It was so wonderful it was almost agony.

Loki realised Sigyn was getting off him and he whimpered in protest, wanting to cling to her. Sigyn flopped down at his side, her cheek on his chest, her breath hot and damp on his skin. He blinked hard to clear his vision and dropped three kisses on her hair. Sigyn hummed contentedly, then giggled, setting Loki off and the two of them laughed together.

“We did it,” Sigyn chortled, “The Reset worked! It worked!”

“Yes, we did,” Loki agreed, more elated at their current intimacy than the spell they had done. He hugged her tight, knowing she would eventually make him let go. Instead, Sigyn snuggled closer, her hand over his heart and she yawned.

“This is the start of a new age, I know it is. The Age of Magic,” she said, her voice fading as she started to fall asleep. Loki, too, was sinking into sleep and he was quite willing to let it happen.

“Long may it last…” he mumbled.

“Long may it last…” she agreed, and they both drifted off into sleep.

**~*~**

Loki woke reluctantly, unwilling to face the new day when the previous night had been so good. He rolled onto his side and reached for Sigyn, but she was not there. The bed was still warm, so she could not have been gone long. Loki lifted his head, blearily looking around. Sunlight streamed into the room, revealing that he was alone. Yet he could hear soft voices in the next room through the slightly open door.

Sigyn’s voice… and Steve Rogers.

Loki rolled his eyes irritably. Could the man not even give him a day? Loki rolled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him and wrapped it around his waist, wondering what was so important that Rogers had to butt in. He crept towards the door, but before he could catch any words between the two, a loud knocking on the entrance door made him freeze.

“Queen Sigyn! Queen Sigyn I demand to speak to you at once!”

That was unmistakably Enfys, and he sounded livid. Loki listened, intensely curious about what the Dökkálfr could possibly be so angry about. He heard Sigyn call him in calmly and the door open. Several people’s footsteps came into the room, Loki mercifully glad that the door to the bedroom hid him from view.

“I demand an explanation!” barked Enfys.

“You have no right to demand anything!” shouted Berach.

“Let him speak,” said Sigyn, sounding oddly calm. Loki’s stomach dropped. There was a small scuffle and Loki imagined that Enfys was throwing Berach off him, before he shouted,

“Queen Sigyn, why have you invaded Svartalfheim?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… yeah. I wasn’t actually planning on Loki and Sigyn sleeping together so early, but Sigyn was rather insistent about it. I tried to find the balance of the two sides, Sigyn riding high on her success, her decision to control her own sexual fate, and her PTSD, and the fact that there is no right way for a survivor to behave. Also I feel that despite all their difficulties right now, Sigyn would know she could she could trust Loki completely to take her comfort into account.   
> Naturally that doesn’t mean that things go smoothly, but Loki’s own experience makes him able to recognise her needs.   
> This doesn’t mean they’re together again, they are not a couple after this. It was not about romantic love, it’s not a great love affair moment, but it is a moment of deep affection and intimacy. It’s as close as Sigyn will let herself get to anyone right now. Plus, right now, as you can see, she’s got other stuff to deal with and by the end of the next chapter, Loki will too. XD   
> As always come talk to me on Tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work please consider [buying me a cup of coffee](http://ko-fi.com/notrudeginger) or come and chat with me on my [tumblr](https://not-rude-ginger.tumblr.com)


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